Kiara Pride-Lander: Book 4
by Kimberly Joan Amethyst
Summary: The fourth book in Kiara's adventures for you all to enjoy. We start to go slightly darker this year, so hold on to your hats. DISCLAIMER: as usual, I do not own anything apart from my own characters. Thank you.
1. Chapter 1

**Kiara Pride-Lander:**

 **and the Goblet of Fire (Strikes Once Again)**

 **By Kimberley Joan Amethyst**

 **Chapter 1**

 **The Mystery House**

 **KIARA**

Hello, my dear readers. It is I, Kiara Pride-Lander, with the fourth instalment of my story. What can I tell you about this year? Well, there's murder, mystery, romance, betrayal, one of my best friends falls in love and ends up in a relationship ... and I end up being unwillingly forced into a Tournament that I certainly did NOT want to be a part of, Sian falling out with her mother, and stuff about Zira ... but I am getting ahead of myself. There will be more on all of that later. For now, let me take you to Africa, KawaZulu Natal to be exact, and the Mystery House (and just so you know, I am not going to be part of this chapter, but not as much as you'd think, adding in my own thoughts as this chapter goes on. Until the next chapter, the narrative for the most part will be in third person, so enjoy).

0000

The people of KawaZulu, Natal, South Africa, still called it "the Mystery House", even though it had been many years since the Maliay family had mysteriously died there. It stood high on a hill, overlooking the village, some of its windows boarded, tiles missing from its roof, and roots from the ground were clinging over the face of the house. It was once a fine-looking manor, and easily the largest and grandest building for miles around, the Mystery House was now damp, derelict and unoccupied.

The residents of KawaZulu, Natal all agreed that the old house was "creepy". For you see, half a century ago, something strange and horrible had happened there, something the older inhabitants of the village still liked to discuss when topics for gossip were scarce. The story had been picked over so many times, and had been embroidered in so many places, that nobody there was quite sure what the truth was anymore. Every version of the tale, however, started in the same place; fifty years before, at daybreak on a fine summer's morning, when the Maliay House - as it was then called - had still been well-kept and impressive, a maid had entered the drawing room to find all three Maliays dead.

The maid ran screaming down the hill into the village, and roused as many people as she could.

"Lying there with their eyes wide open! Cold as ice! Still in their dinner things!"

The police were summoned, and the whole of KawaZulu, Natal had seethed with shocked curiosity and ill-disguised excitement. Nobody wasted their breath pretending to feel very sad about the Maliays, for they had been most unpopular. Elderly Mr and Mrs Maliay had been rich, snobbish and rude , and their grown-up daughter, Dizra, had been even more so. All the villagers cared about was the identity of their murderer - plainly, three apparently healthy people did not all drop dead of natural causes on the same night.

The village community centre did a roaring trade that night; the whole village had turned out to discuss the murders. They were rewarded for leaving their firesides when the Maliays' cook arrived dramatically in their midst, and announced to the suddenly silent pub that a woman by the name of Aisha Ancarra had been arrested.

"Aisha!" cried several people. "Never!"

Aisha Ancarra was the Maliays' gardener. She lived alone in a run-down cottage in the Mystery House grounds. Aisha had come back from working in a hospital during the war with a very stiff back and a great dislike of crowds and loud noises, and had been working for the Maliays ever since.

There was a rush to fetch food and water for the cook and hear more details.

Always thought she was odd," she told the eagerly listening villagers after a few other people had said their peices. "Unfriendly, like. I'm sure if I've offered her a drink of water once, I've offered it a hundred times. Never wanted to mix, she didn't."

"Ah, now," said a woman at the bar, "she had a hard war, Aisha did, she likes the quiet life. There's no reason to - "

"Who else had a key to the back door, then?" barked the cook. There's been a spare key hanging in the gardener's cottage far back as I can remember! Nobody forced the door last night! No broken windows! All Aisha had to do was creep up to the big house while we was all sleeping ..."

The villagers exchanged dark looks.

"I always thought she had a nasty look about her, right enough," grunted a man in the furthest part of the room.

"War turned her funny, if you ask me," said the manager.

"Told you I didn't want to get on the wrong side of Aisha, didn't I, Banz?" said an excited man in the corner.

"Horrible temper," said Banz, nodding fervently, "remember when I was a kid ..."

But over at the dark and dingy police station, Aisha stubbornly repeated, over and over again, that she was innocent, and that the only person she had seen near the house on the day of the Maliays' deaths had been a teenage girl, a stranger, light-haired and pale. Nobody in the village had seen any such girl, and the police were quite sure Aisha had just invented her.

Then, just when things looked very serious for Aisha, the report on the Maliays' bodies came back and changed everything.

The police had never read a more odder report. A team of doctors had examined the bodies and had concluded that none of the Maliays had been poisoned, stabbed, shot, strangled, suffocated, or (as far as they knew) harmed at all. In fact, the report continued, in a tone of unmistakable bewilderment, the Maliays all appeared to be in perfect health - apart from the obvious fact that they were all dead. The doctors did note (as though determined to find something wrong with the bodies) that each of the Maliays had a look of terror upon his or her face - but as the frustrated police said, who ever heard of people being _frightened_ to death?

As there was no proof that the Maliays had been murdered at all, the police were forced to let Aisha go. The Maliays were buried in the KawaZulu, Natal churchyard, and their graves remained objects of curiosity for a while. To everyone's surprise, Aisha Ancarra returned to her cottage in the grounds of the Maliay house.

"'S far as I'm concerned, she killed them, and I don't care what the police say," said Banz in the village community centre. "And if she had any decency, she'd leave here, knowing as how we knows she did it."

But Aisha did not leave. She stayed to tend the garden for the next family who lived in the Maliay house, and then the next - for neither family stayed too long. Perhaps it was because of Aisha that each new owner said there was a nasty feeling about the place, which, in the absence of inhabitants, started to fall into despair.

0000

The wealthy woman who owned the Mystery House these days neither lived there nor put it to any use; they said in the village that she kept it for "tax reasons", though nobody was very clear what these might be. The wealthy owner continued to pay Aisha to do the gardening, however Aisha was nearing her seventy-seventh birthday, was very deaf, her bad back stiffer than ever, but she could still be seen pottering around the flower beds in fine weather, even though the weeds were starting to creep up on her.

Weeds were not the only things Aisha had to contend with, either. Girls from the village made a habit of throwing stones through the windows of the Mystery House. They rode their bikes over the lawns Aisha tried so hard to keep smooth. Once or twice, they broke into the house for a dare. They knew that old Aisha was devoted to the house and the grounds, and it amused them to see her limping around the garden, brandishing her stick, back crooked and yelling croakily at them. Aisha, on her part, believed the girls tormented her because they, like their parents and grandparents, thought her a murderer. So, when Aisha woke one night in August, and saw something very odd up at the old house, she merely assumed that the girls had gone one step further in their attempts to ruin her.

It was Aisha's bad back that had woken her; it pained her worse than ever in her old age. She got up and walked downstairs into the kitchen, with the idea of re-filling her hot-water bottle to ease the stiffness in her back. Standing at the sink, filling the kettle, she looked up at the Mystery House and saw lights glimmering in the upper windows. Aisha knew at once what was going on. The girls had broken into the house again, and judging by the flickering quality of the light, they had started a fire.

Aisha had no telephone, and in any case, she had deeply mistrusted the police ever since they had taken her in for questioning about the Maliays' deaths. She put the kettle down at once, hurried back upstairs as fast as her bad back would allow her, and was soon back in her kitchen, fully dressed and removing a rusty old key from its hook by the door. She picked up her walking stick, which was propped against the wall, and set off into the night.

The front door of the Maliay house bore no sign of being forced, nor did any of the windows. Aisha walked archedly around the back of the house until she reached a door that was almost completely hidden by covered roots, took out the old key, put it into the lock and opened the door noiselessly.

She had let herself into the cavernous kitchen. Aisha had not entered it for many years; nevertheless, although it was very dark, she remembered where the door into the hall was, and she groped her way towards it, her nostrils full of the smell of decay, ears pricked for any sound of footsteps or voices from overhead. She reached the hall, which was a little lighter, owing to the large mullioned windows on either side of the front door, and started to climb the stairs, blessing the dust which lay upon the stone, because it muffled the sound of her feet and stick.

On the landing, Aisha turned right, and saw at once where the intruders were: at the very end of the passage a door stood ajar, and a flickering light shone through the gap, casting a long sliver of gold across the black floor. Aisha edged closer and closer, grasping her walking stick firmly. Several feet from the entrance, she was able to see a narrow slice of the room beyond.

The fire, she saw, had been lit in the grate. This surprised her. She stopped moving and listened intently, for a man's voice spoke within the room; it sounded timid and fearful.

"There is a little more in the bottle, my Lady, if you are still hungry."

"Later," said the second voice. This voice belonged to a woman - but it was strangely high-pitched and cold as a sudden blast of icy wind. Something about that voice made the sparse hairs on the back of Aisha's neck stand up. "Move me a little closer to the fire, Wormy."

There was a pause, during which Aisha turned her right ear towards the door, the better to hear. Then Aisha heard the sound of someone striking someone's skin which made her wince, a bottle smashing, the man's voice crying out in pain and a third voice, which was another woman's, but this woman's voice was hard and hard, and said sharply, "Do what our mistress says, you useless bit of dragon filth!" Aisha then heard the scraping noise of a heavy chair being dragged across the floor. Aisha caught a glimpse of a small man, his back to the door, pushing the chair into place. He wore a long red cloak, and there was a bald patch at the back of his head, during which time the third woman chuckled a harsh laugh. Then he disappeared from sight again.

"Where is Namzo?" said the cold voice.

"I think he set out to explore the house, my Lady," said the second woman, her voice softening slightly, with not a drop of fear in her voice.

"Make sure your husband milks a female snake before we leave here, Alice," said the first woman's voice. "I will need feeding in the night. The journey has tired me greatly."

"I will do as you ask, my Lady," said the second woman's voice.

Brow furrowed, Aisha inclined her head still closer to the door, listening very hard. There was a pause and then the man called Wormy spoke again.

"My Lady, may I ask how long we are going to stay here?"

"A week," said the cold voice. "Maybe more. This place is moderately comfortable, and the plan cannot proceed yet. It would be foolish to act before the Quidditch Friendly takes place."

Aisha inserted a gnarled finger into her ear and rotated it. Owing, no doubt, to a build-up of earwax, she heard the word "Quidditch", which was not a word at all (Muggles, they're quite naïve, aren't they?).

"The - the Quidditch Friendly, my Lady?" said Wormy (Aisha dug her finger still more vigorously into her ear). "Forgive me, but - I do not understand - why should we wait until the Friendly is over?"

"Because, idiot, at this very moment wizards are poring into Great Britain from all over the world, and every meddler from the Ministry of Magic will be on duty, on the watch for signs of unusual activity, checking and double-checking identities. They will be obsessed with security, lest the Muggles notice anything, so we wait."

Aisha stopped trying to clear her ear out. She had distinctly heard the words "Ministry of Magic", "wizards", and "Muggles". Plainly, each of these expressions meant something secret, and Aisha could think of only two sorts of people who would speak in code - spies and criminals (she at least got the criminal part right). Aisha tightened her hold on her walking stick once more, and listened more closely still.

"Your Ladyship is still determined, then?" Wormy said quietly.

"Certainly I am determined, Wormy." There was a note of menace in the cold voice now.

A slight pause followed - and then Wormy spoke, the words trembling from him in a rush, as though he was forcing himself to say this before he lost his nerve.

"It could be done without Kiara Pride-Lander, my Lady."

Another pause, more protracted, and then -

"Without Kiara Pride-Lander?" said the second voice softly. "I see ..."

"My Lady, I am certain that my husband does not say this out of concern for the girl!" said the second woman quickly. "The girl is nothing to us, nothing at all, isn't that right, Abster?" the second woman finished harshly.

"T-t-that is t-true, yes," Wormy spoke squeakily. "It is merely that if we were to use another witch or wizard - any witch - the thing could be done more quickly! If you allowed me to leave you a short while - you know that I can disguise myself most effectively - I could be back in as little as two days with a suitable person - "

"I could use another witch," said the second voice softly, "that is true - "

"My Lady, it makes sense!" said Wormy, sounding thoroughly relieved now. "Laying hands on Kiara Pride-Lander would be so difficult, she is so well protected - "

"And so you volunteer to go and fetch me a substitute? I wonder ... perhaps, if the task of nursing me has become wearisome for you, Wormy? Could this suggestion of abandoning the plan be nothing more than an attempt to desert me?"

My Lady! I - I have no wish to leave you, none at all - "

"Do not lie to me!" hissed the cold voice. "I can always tell, Wormy! You are regretting that you ever returned to me. I revolt you. I see you flinch when you look at me, feel you shudder when you touch me ..."

"No! My devotion to your Ladyship - "

"Your devotion is nothing more than cowardice!" spat the cold voice. "You and your wife would not be here if you had nowhere else to go, remember that. Besides, how am I to survive without you when I need feeding every few hours?"

"B - but you would have Alice to help you with those - "

"Oh please, Abster!" spat the second woman. "You know as well as I do that I would follow you anywhere, you disgusting piece of flesh! And you know as well as I do that our mistress needs both of us to stay with her in order to keep her alive."

The cold voice chuckled softly. "Wormy, why can't you be more like your wife? At least she knows what loyalty means and where hers lies ..."

Wormy spoke again. "But you seem so much stronger, my Lady - "

 _"Liar,"_ breathed the cold voice. "I am no stronger, and a few days alone would be enough to rob me of the little health I have regained under your clumsy hands, Wormy, and the more careful hands of your wife. _Silence!_ "

Wormy, who had been spluttering incoherently, fell silent at once. For a few seconds, Aisha heard nothing but the fire crackling. Then the cold voice spoke once more, in a whisper that was almost a hiss.

"I have my reasons for using the girl, as I have already explained to the pair of you, and I will use no other. I have waited fourteen years. A few more months will make no difference. As for the protection surrounding the girl, I believe my plan will be effective. All that is needed is a little courage from you, Wormy - courage that I hope you will gain through you wife, unless you wish to feel the full extent of Lady Zira's wrath - "

"My Lady, I must speak!" said Wormy, panic in his voice now. "All through our journey I have gone over the plan in my head - my Lady, Bernard Jenkins' disappearance will not go unnoticed for long, and if we proceed, if I curse - "

"If?" whispered the cold voice. " _If?_ If you and your wife follow the plan, Wormy, the Ministry need never know that anyone else has disappeared. You will do it quietly and without any fuss; I only wish that I could do it myself, but in my present condition ... come, Wormy, one more obstacle removed and our path to Kiara Pride-Lander is clear. I am not asking you to do it alone. By that time, my _faithful_ servant will have returned to us - "

" _I_ am a faithful servant," said Wormy, the merest trace of sullenness in his voice.

"Wormy, I need somebody with brains, somebody whose loyalty has never wavered, and you, unfortunately, fulfil neither requirements. Indeed, if I could I would send Alice to do the job, but I need another pair of eyes on you as well as Namzo's and my own."

"Thank you, my Lady," said the second woman, her voice relishing smugness with every word.

"B-but, my Lady, we found you," said Wormy, and there was a definite sulky edge to his voice now. "We were the ones who found you, a-and indeed, it was I who bought Bernard Jenkins to you."

"Wormy, the only reason you found me was because of your wife, and you know it," said the cold voice, sounding amused. "But about Bernard Jenkins ... that is true. A stroke of brilliance neither of us would have thought possible from you, Wormy - though, if truth be told, you were not aware how useful he would be when you caught him, didn't you?"

"I-I thought he might be useful, my Lady - "

 _"Liar,"_ said the cold voice again, the cruel amusement more pronounced than ever. "However, I don't deny that his information was invaluable. Without it, I could never have formed our plan, and for that, you will have your reward, Wormy - as will you, Alice. Wormy, I will allow you to perform an essential task for me, one that many of my followers would give their right hands to perform ..."

"R-really, my Lady? What - ?" Wormy sounded terrified again.

"Ah, Wormy, you don't want me to spoil the surprise, now, do you? Your part will come at the very end ... but I promise you, you will have the honour of being just as useful as Bernard Jenkins."

"You ... you ..." Wormy's voice sounded suddenly hoarse, as though his mouth had gone very dry. "You ... are going ... to kill me, too?"

"If she doesn't, then someday I will," said the second woman slowly, with cold, hard menace in her voice.

The cold voice seemed to ignore this, but said to Wormy silkily, "Wormy, Wormy, why would I kill you? I killed Bernard because I had to. He was fit for nothing after my questioning, quite useless. In any case, awkward questions would have been asked if he had gone back to the Ministry with news that he had seen you on his travels. Wizards who are supposed to be dead would not do well to run into Ministry of Magic wizards at wayside inns ..."

Wormy muttered something so quietly that Aisha couldn't hear it, but it made the two women laugh - both laughs were as mirthless and cold as the voice of the first woman.

" _We could have modified his memory?_ But Memory Charms can be broken by a very powerful witch or wizard, as I proved when I questioned him. It would be an insult to his _memory_ to not use the information extracted from him, Wormy."

Out in the corridor, Aisha suddenly became aware that the hand gripping her walking stick was slippery with sweat. The woman with the cold voice had killed a man. She was talking about it without any kind of remorse - with _amusement_. She was dangerous - a madwoman. And she was planning more murders - this girl, Kiara Pride-Lander (me, in other words), was in danger -

Aisha knew what she must do. Now, if ever, was the time to call the police. She would creep out of the house and head straight for the telephone box in the village (not to speak against her, but if she had any sense at all, she would have done that in the first place) ... but the cold voice was speaking again, and Aisha remained where she was, frozen to the spot, listening with all her might.

"One more curse ... my faithful servant at Dragon Mort ... and Kiara Pride-Lander is as good as mine, Wormy. It is decided. There will be no more arguments. Be quiet, both of you ... I think I hear Namzo ..."

And the first woman's voice changed. She started making noises such as Aisha had never heard before; she was hissing and spitting without drawing breath. Aisha thought she must be having some sort of fit or seizure.

And then Aisha heard movement behind her in the dark passageway. She turned to look behind her, and found herself paralysed with fright.

Something was slithering towards her along the dark corridor, and as it drew nearer to the sliver of firelight, she realised with a thrill of horror that it was a gigantic snake, at least twelve feet long. Horrified, transfixed, Aisha stared at it as its undulating body cut a wide, curving track through the thick dust on the floor, coming closer and closer - what was she to do? The only means of escape was into the room where two women and a man sat plotting murder, yet if she stayed where she was the snake would surely kill her -

But before she had made her decision, the snake was level with her, and then, incredibly, miraculously, it was passing; it was following the spitting, hissing noises made by the cold voice beyond the door, and in seconds, the tip of its diamond-patterned tail had vanished through the gap.

There was sweat on Aisha's forehead now, and the hand on her walking stick was trembling. Inside the room, the cold voice was continuing to hiss, and Aisha was visited by a strange idea, an impulsive idea ... _This woman could talk to snakes._

Aisha didn't understand what was going on. She wanted more than anything to be back in bed with her hot-water bottle. The problem was that her legs didn't seem to want to move. As she stood there, shaking, and trying to master herself, the cold voice switched abruptly to English again.

"Alice. Wormy. Namzo has some rather interesting news," it said.

"Indeed, my Lady?" said Wormy's wife.

"Indeed, yes," said the cold voice. "According to Namzo, there is an old woman standing right outside this room, listening to every word we say."

Aisha didn't have a chance to hide herself. There were footsteps, and then the door of the room was flung wide open.

A short, balding man with greying hair, a pointed nose and small, watery eyes and a recent red mark on his cheek from where his wife had recently struck him stood before Aisha, a mixture of fear and alarm on his face.

"Well, let the woman inside, Abster," Abster's wife spoke softly. "Where are your manners, after all?"

"Listen to your wife, Wormy," said the cold voice. "Let's not be impolite to our guest."

The cold voice came from the ancient armchair before the fire, but Aisha couldn't see the speaker. She could, however, see Wormy's wife, who stood leaning against the wall. She was taller than her husband, had short hair pulled up, strict, observing eyes and a thing mouth that was curled up slightly at the sight of Aisha and didn't take her eyes off of her. The snake, meanwhile, was curled up on the rotting hearthrug, like some horrible travesty of a pet dog.

Wormy beckoned me into the room. Thought still deeply shaken, Aisha took a firmer grip upon her walking stick and, back as straight as she could get it, walked slowly over the threshold.

The fire was the only source of light in the room; it was casting long, spidery shadows upon the walls. As she stared at the back of the armchair, the woman sitting in it seemed to be even smaller than her servant, for Aisha couldn't even see the back of her head.

"You heard everything, Muggle?" said the cold voice.

"What's that you're calling me?" said Aisha defiantly, for now she was inside the room, she knew that now was the time for some sort of action, she felt braver; she had learnt that from things passed to her from the men that had served in the war.

"I am calling you a Muggle," said the voice coolly. "It means you are not a witch."

"I don't know what you mean by witch," said Aisha, her voice growing steadier. "All I know is I've heard enough to interest the police tonight, I have. You've done murder and you're planning more! And I'll tell you this," she added on sudden inspiration, "my husband knows I'm up here, and if I don't come back - "

"You have no husband," said the cold voice very quietly. "Nobody knows you're here. You told nobody that you were coming. Do not lie to Lady Zira, Muggle, for she knows ... she always knows ..."

"Is that right?" said Aisha roughly. "Lady, is it? Well, I don't think much of your manners, _my Lady_. Turn around and face me like a woman, why don't you?"

"But I am not a woman, Muggle," said the cold voice, barely audible now over the crackling of the flames. "I am much, much more than a woman. However ... why not? I will face you ... Wormy, come turn my chair around."

Wormy gave a whimper as his wife's lips curled further upward into a truly wicked smile.

"You heard me, Wormy."

Slowly, with his face screwed up, as though he would rather have done anything but approach his mistress and the hearthrug where the snake was, the small man walked forwards and began to turn the chair. The snake lifted its ugly, triangular head and hissed slightly as the legs of the chair snagged on the rug. Wormy's wife's head leaned forward excitedly as this happened.

And then the chair was facing Aisha and she saw what was sitting in it. Her walking stick fell to the floor with a clatter. She opened her mouth and let out a scream. She was screaming so loudly that she never heard the words the thing in the chair spoke as it raised its wand. There was a flash of green light, a rushing sound, and Aisha Ancarra crumpled. She was dead before she hit the floor.

And that was when, seven-thousand-and-eighty-nine miles away, that I, Kiara Pride-Lander, woke with a start.

0000

 **Hello, readers. K.J.A. here with the fourth book at last, I know. I'm sorry this has been far too long, but I really needed a break. I'm back now, and I'm going to be posting chapters whenever I've finished a chapter for the fifth book, so I'm not going to tell you when to expect your updates. Some chapters will be split, so if anyone knows how to put headings in the chapter navigation thing, let me know soon, that'll be a great help to me. I don't know much about Africa to be honest, so please forgive me if some of this sounds inaccurate, but I'm only doing this as a plot device, so don't judge me too harshly. I hope you enjoy this book, and that's all I have to say to you until the next chapter. Thanks for reading as always. Oh, and you can follow me on Twitter: /siandawson155 if you want to follow me and ask me any questions.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 **My Scar**

 **KIARA**

I lay flat on my back, breathing hard as though I had just run a mile. I had awoken from a vivid dream with my hands pressed over my face. The old scar on my forehead, which was shaped like a flame, burned beneath my fingers as though someone had just pressed a white-hot wire to my skin. A second later, I jumped up as a flash of lightning burst outside my room. I looked outside; from what I heard, the rain hammered hard outside. I know that we had sandbags outside the doors and Grandmother Sarabi had placed water-repelling charms around the house and the stables for extra protection; after all, this was the summer of 2007, where in the UK, we had ten weeks of torrential rain (we witches and wizards naturally think this was just the weather being the weather, but I heard some Muggles being superstitious by blaming the rain on a song by some woman from Barbados), which hammered outside.

Anyhoo, I sat up and rubbed my scar with one hand, as the wiped the sleep out of my eyes, so that I could see better. My room then came into brighter focus, lit by the occasional flash of lightning.

It was quite a large, spacious room, with a fair few wardrobes at the end of the room, along with a body-length mirror. Over the years, many of my old toys had gone, because of course I was growing up and therefore I had no real need for them. Many of my video games and DVDs and CDs I still kept. I hadn't painted my walls since I started Dragon Mort, not because I had run out of imagination, but because it was a nice reminder for me to remember what I used to dream of through my pictures. My desk lay on the other side of my bedside table, on top of which were my hair brushes, wash bag and a picture of my parents on their wedding day, which lay next to my bed, and on my desk were my books, bits of parchment, quills and ink bottles placed here and there for my work, and my bed, of course, was right against the window.

Now getting back to the topic at hand, I ran my fingers over my scar again. It was still painful. I turned on the lamp beside me, scrambled put of bed, crossed the room and peered into the body-length mirror. At that moment in time, I was a tall, slender girl of fourteen, the same girl that stared back at me out of the mirror, her dark amber eyes puzzled under her straight, waist-length, flowing golden hair that curled slightly at the end, that had tawny highlights in my fringe from my father. I examined the flame scar of my reflection more closely. It certainly looked normal, but it still stung.

I tried to recall what I had been dreaming about before I had awoken. It had seemed so real (which of course it was, but I didn't realise it yet) ... there had been three people I knew and one I didn't ... I concentrated hard, frowning, trying to remember ...

The dim picture of a darkened room came to me ... there had been a snake on the hearthrug ... a small man named Alan, nicknamed Wormy ... his wife, Alice ... and a cold, high voice ... the voice of Lady Zira. I remember feeling as though an ice cube had slipped down into my stomach at the very thought ...

I closed my eyes tightly and then tried to remember what Zira had looked like, but it was impossible ... all I knew was that the moment when Zira's chair swung around, and I, Kiara, had seen what was sitting in it, I had felt a spasm of horror which had awoken me ... or, I wondered, had it been the pain in my scar? I then turned a thought to who the old woman was, for there had definitely been an old woman; I had watched her fall to the ground. It became way too confusing for me; I put my face into my hands, blocking out my bedroom, and tried desperately to hold on to the picture of that dimly lit room, but it was like trying to keep water in my cupped hands; the materials were trickling away as fast I tried to hold on to them ... Zira, Wormy and Alice had been talking to someone they had killed, though at that moment I could not for the life of me remember the name ... and they were plotting to kill someone else ... _me_ ...

I took my face out of my hands, opened my eyes and stared around my bedroom, as though I had expected to see something unusual. As it happened, there was a number of unusual things in my room, which I have already mentioned, but the one thing I forgot to mention was that at the foot of my bed, a large wooden trunk stood open, revealing a cauldron, broomstick, navy robes and a few more spellbooks. A large, open cage was placed on my widowsill, which was where my owl, Harold, usually perched, but at the time he was out hunting (in that weather, I have no idea). On the floor beside my bed, a book lay open; I had been reading it before I fell asleep the night before. The pictures in that book were all moving. Women in yellow robes were zooming in and out of sight on broomsticks, throwing a red ball to each other.

I walked over to that book, picked it up and watched one of the witches score a spectacular goal by putting the ball through a fifty-foot-high hoop. I then snapped the book shut. Even Quidditch - in my opinion, the best sport in the world - couldn't distract me at that moment. I placed Flying with the Harpies on my bedside table, sat back on my bed and opened my curtains to look out into the garden below.

I lived in a cottage in South Wales that was on a hill with my grandmothers, Sarabi and Sarafina, who were my parents' mothers (obviously). They weren't there that night; Grandmother Sarafina was with my aunt Mavuto and her husband and child: Uncle Frank and my cousin, Carol. Grandmother Sarabi, though, I think had Apparated to see Crighton about something. Where, she did not say, and I remember her saying that she didn't know when she'd be back, either. Anyhoo, as I looked out into the garden, as far as I could tell, there wasn't a single soul out there.

And yet ... and yet ... I ran my fingers over my scar again. It wasn't the pain that bothered me; I was, after all, no stranger to pain and injury. I had lost all the bones from my right arm once, and had them painfully regrown in a night. The same arm had been jabbed by a venomous foot-long fang not long afterwards. In my third year I had fallen fifty feet from an airborne broomstick. I was used to bizarre accidents and injuries; they were unavoidable if you attended Dragon Mort Magical Academy (and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry too, I suppose) and had a knack of attracting a lot of trouble.

No, the thing that bothered me most at that moment was that the last time my scar hurt me before this time, it had been because Zira had been close by ... but Zira couldn't be there ... the idea of Zira lurking near my grandmothers' cottage was absurd, impossible ...

I listened closely to the silence around me. Was I half-expecting to hear the creak of a stair, or the swish of a cloak? And I jumped again slightly as a loud crash of thunder resounded outside.

I shook myself mentally; I was all alone in the cottage, but at that moment I wished that one of my grandmothers was there with me - Grandmother Sarabi in particular.

My grandmothers Sarabi and Sarafina were, as I've noted before, my parents' mothers, one a Muggle (Sarafina), my mother's mother, and the other a witch (Sarabi), who was obviously my father's mother. To remind you all, I was given to my grandmothers to protect me after Zira had failed to kill me. They had raised me, and did a good job of it, too. The only downside to my childhood was that every once in a while, during the summer, I had to spend time with my aunt, uncle and cousin (but as I learned when I was twelve, my Uncle Frank loved me). Of course, I saw them every so often after I had started at Dragon Mort, but that wasn't often (in fact, from what I remember that summer, I didn't see a lot of them, although I think that might have had to do with the weather). Anyhoo, I wanted Grandmother Sarabi there, because she was the only one in that house who understood what I was going through. With her, it would be so much easier to talk to than Grandmother Sarafina. I'm pretty sure you understand why. If not, why are you reading this? No offence.

And yet, it was because of Zira that I had gone to live with my grandmothers in the first place. If it hadn't been for Zira, I would not have the flame scar on my forehead. If it hadn't been for Zira, then my parents and I would never have become separated ...

I had been ten months old the day that Zira - the most powerful Dark witch for a century, a witch who had been gaining power secretly and steadily for eleven years - arrived in the Pride-Lands, and tried to use the curse that had disposed many full-grown witches and wizards in her secret and steady rise to power - and, incredibly, it had not worked. Instead of killing me, the curse had rebounded on Zira. I had survived with nothing but a flame-shaped cut on my forehead, and Zira had been reduced to something barely alive. Her powers gone, her life almost extinguished, Zira had fled; the terror in which the secret community of witches and wizards had lived for so long had been lifted, Zira's followers had been disbanded, and I, Kiara Pride-Lander, became famous.

It had been a very big shock for me to discover, on my eleventh birthday, to find out that everyone in the wizarding world knew my name. I arrived at Dragon Mort to find that heads turned and whispers followed me wherever I went. But I was used to that by this point in my life; at the end of that summer, I would be starting my fourth year at Dragon Mort, and I was counting down the days until I would go back to the castle again.

But if I remember rightly I had two weeks to go before that time. I looked hopelessly around my room again, and my eyes paused on the birthday cards my three best friends had sent me at the end of July. I couldn't help but wonder about how they would react if I wrote to them and told them of my scar hurting.

At once, Sian Dawson's voice filled my head, shrill and panicky.

 _"Your scar hurt? Kiara, that's really serious ... write to Ma! And I'll go and check_ Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions _... Maybe there's something in there about curse scars ..."_

Yes, that would be Sian's advice: go straight to her mother, the Headmistress of Dragon Mort, and consult a book. I stared out of the window at the pitch black sky. I doubted very much that there was a book out there that could've helped me. As far as I knew, I was the second person to have survived a curse like Zira's; it was highly unlikely, therefore, that I would have found my symptoms listed in _Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions_. As for informing the Headmistress, I had no idea where Crighton went during the summer holidays. I amused myself for a moment, picturing Crighton, with her long caramel-brown hair with silver streaks, full-length witches robes and pointed hat, stretched out on a beach somewhere, rubbing suntan lotion into her small crooked nose. Wherever Crighton was, though, I was sure that Harold would've found her; my owl never failed to deliver a letter to anyone, even without an address. But what would I write?

 _Dear Professor Crighton, sorry to bother you, but my scar hurt this morning. Yours sincerely, Kiara Pride-Lander._

Even inside my head the words sounded stupid.

And so I tried to imagine one of my other best friend's, Chrissie Dawson's reaction, and in a moment, Chrissie's long nosed, freckled face seemed to swim before me, wearing a bemused expression.

 _"Your scar hurt? But ... but She-You-Know can't be near you now, can she? I mean ... you'd know, wouldn't you? She'd be trying to do you in again, wouldn't she? I dunno, Kiara, maybe curse scars always twinge a bit ... I'll ask Dad ..."_

Mr Dawson was a fully qualified wizard who worked in the Auror department at the Ministry of Magic, but as far as I knew, he didn't have any expertise in the matter of curse scars. In any case, I didn't like the idea of the whole Dawson family knowing that I, Kiara, was getting jumpy because of a few moments' pain. I had no idea what Crighton would do or think, but Beth, Kastrel, Merida, Joe and Jack - Chris, Sian and Chrissie's younger siblings - and Ben and Dave - the Dawsons' foster brothers - might've thought that I would've lost my nerve. The Dawsons are my favourite family in the world (apart from my own); I hoped that they might have sent me an invite to come and stay with them some time around then (Chris and Chrissie had mentioned something about a Quidditch Friendly), and somehow, I didn't want my visit there punctured with anxious enquiries about my scar (and that's why I didn't think of what Chris would say - well, that and the fact that what I thought the other two would say already cleared it up for me).

I kneaded my forehead with my knuckles. What I really wanted (and I felt almost ashamed to admit it to myself) was someone like - someone like a _parent_ ; an adult's wizards advice that I could ask without feeling stupid, people who cared about me, , who had had experience of Dark Magic ...

And then the solution came to me. It was so simple and so obvious that I couldn't believe it had taken me so long to reach this conclusion - _my own parents, Simba and Nala Pride-Lander_.

I leapt up from my bed, got to my desk and sat down; I pulled a spare piece of parchment towards me, loaded my eagle-feather quill with ink, wrote _Dear Daddy and Mum_ , and paused, wondering how best to phrase my problem, and still marvelled at the fact that I hadn't thought of my parents straight away (of course, I would've told my grandmothers if they were in the house with me, but they weren't. Don't worry, though, I promised myself that I would tell Grandmother Sarabi the moment she got back). But then, perhaps, it wasn't so surprising - after all, I had only found my parents again two months prior to that night.

There was a simple reason for my parents' absence from my life until then - my parents had been in Azkaban, the terrifying wizard prison, guarded by creatures called Stingers, soul-sucking fiends that had a big, staring, non-blinking red eye in the middle of where its head should be, with a black slit running down the middle of the eye for its pupil, who came to search for my parents at Dragon Mort when they had escaped. Yet my parents were innocent - the murders for which they had been convicted of had been committed by Alan and Alice Abster, Zira's supporters, whom nearly everybody then believed to be dead. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I knew otherwise, however; we had come face-to-face with them in our third year, though only Professor Crighton believed us.

For one glorious hour, I believed that that my parents would be living with me and my grandmothers, because I wanted us all to live together once their names were cleared. But the chance had been snatched away from me - Wormy and Alice had escaped before we could take them to the Ministry of Magic, and my parents had escaped on the back of a Hippogriff called Noelani, and since then, my parents had been on the run. The happy home my grandmothers and I might have shared with my parents if Wormy and Alice had not escaped haunted me all that summer. I felt quite downhearted returning to my grandmothers knowing that they almost had their son and daughter - and I my parents - back.

Nevertheless, now that I knew that my parents were innocent - and more importantly, my grandmothers knew, too - I was able to ask questions about my parents in their younger days and was able to get answers from them without my grandmothers brushing the questions aside and hiding their faces in shame. It was quite fun for me to learn that I wasn't the only one in their younger days who had been quite the little troublemaker in my family. Those were some truly good times my grandmothers and I had, sitting on that couch and listening to what they had been up to. Surprisingly, my father was a little bit of a troublemaker, too, when he was a child, for he and my mother once found themselves in a little bit of trouble, and boy was Grandfather Mufasa angry with him when he found out! But then the stories stopped, and my grandmothers' faces both became serious, and when I tried to ask what it was that happened, they both switched the subject. I didn't know what happened at the time, but I gathered that it must have been terrible, so I dropped it (and just so you know, I wouldn't find out what happened until my seventh year).

Anyhoo, I had received two letters from my parents since I had been back at my grandmothers' cottage. Both had been delivered, not by owls (as was the norm with wizards), but by large, brightly coloured, tropical birds. Harold had not approved of these flashy intruders; he had been most reluctant to allow them to drink from his water tray before they flew off again. I, on the other hand, liked them; they put me in mind of palm trees and white sand, and I hoped that wherever my parents were (they never said in case the letters were intercepted) they were enjoying themselves. Somehow, I found it hard to imagine Stingers surviving for long in bright sunlight; perhaps that was why my parents had gone south. My parents letters, which lay in a drawer in my bedside table, sounded cheerful, and in both of them, they had reminded me to call them if ever I needed to. Well, I certainly needed to at that moment.

My lamp seemed to grow slightly dimmer as the clouds became slightly lighter and dawn seemed to creep slowly into the room. Finally, when the light became bright enough that I could just about make out my garden through the rain-streaked window, I cleared my desk of crumpled pieces of parchment and re-read my finished letter.

 _Dear Daddy and Mum,_

 _Thanks for your last letter. That bird was enormous, it could hardly get through my window._

 _Things are the same as usual here. My grandmothers are treating me well, but the weather's terrible. We're getting some rain, even though the floods in the main part of the UK are over, we're still getting a backlash off it (don't ask me why, I don't know). I hope the weather clears up soon, for I would like to take my horse for a ride; I think he's getting restless from the lack of exercise._

 _My grandmothers and I both wish you and wish you were here with us, but now there's something I need to tell you._

 _A weird thing happened to me this morning. My scar hurt again. Last time that happened was because Zira was at Dragon Mort. But I don't think she can be anywhere near me now, can she? Do you know if curse scars sometimes hurt years afterwards?_

 _I'll send this with Harold when he gets back from hunting. Say hello to Noelani for me. And don't worry, I'll tell Grandmother Sarabi and Grandmother Sarafina you love and miss them._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Your darling daughter,_

 _Kiara_

Yes, I thought, this looks all right. There was no point putting in the dream, for I didn't want it to look as though I was too worried. I folded the parchment up and laid it aside on my desk, ready for when Harold returned. Then I got to my feet, stretched, and decided to take a shower.

When I got back to my room, I dressed and seeing as Grandmother Sarabi said that she'd probably be back in time for breakfast, I decided to get dressed and make a start on it. I put on a pair of jeans, a lavender blouse and a dark blue cardigan, tied up my hair, put on my boots and headed down to the kitchen, leaving my lamp on, for it was still thundery outside.

When I reached the kitchen and was about to start the breakfast, I suddenly realised that Crooks, our cat, wasn't there. I thought he was still out hunting, but as I was pulling out pans, I vaguely heard the cries of a cat over the pounding of the rain and crashes of thunder. I looked out the window and what I saw shocked me: it was a poor cat that was soaking wet and half-drowning in a puddle. But as I looked closer, I realised that it wasn't any cat, but Crooks! I quickly left the kitchen appliances (thank God I hadn't switched on the stove!), grabbed my coat, dashed outside and grabbed a struggling Crooks out of the puddle, tried as hard as I could to protect him in my coat from the rain without getting scratched too hard (to no avail), got him back inside, switched the heater on in the lounge, took off my coat, hung it in the little coat room which was opposite the front door, before I quickly dashed upstairs, grabbed a towel from the bathroom and hurried back downstairs to find Crooks in front of the fire. I pulled him into my lap and tried to clear him up the best I could, kissing him and stroking him as I did.

I didn't hear the crack to say she had returned, but I did hear the door open and heard her footsteps, which only meant one thing: Grandmother Sarabi had returned.

0000

 **OK, I know I didn't get the facts right concerning the floods, but this was the only way that I could make that joke, which I hope you all enjoyed.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 **The Invitation**

 **KIARA**

When Grandmother Sarabi entered the living room, her light brown eyes smiled at me before she took in the muddy footprints I had left on the floor after bringing Crooks inside and the state of the kitchen (I hadn't even started on breakfast, so thank goodness I hadn't turned the stove on!). She then turned her attentions back to me and I saw her disapproving glance, and I could tell I was going to get a few words, and therefore I spoke before she could.

"Please here me out, Grandmother!" I spoke imploringly. "I was about to make a start n breakfast, when I heard the sound of a cat's cried coming from outside. I ignored it at first, thinking that it was a neighbour's cat that had got lost. The car's cries didn't stop, and when I looked out the window, I saw this little guy half-drowning in a puddle!" (After all, what was I supposed to do, just let him drown!?) I held up Crooks. "I dashed outside to help him and brought him here to get him dry and keep him warm. That's why I didn't have time to clean up after myself when you came in, Grandmother. I'm s - "

"Don't apologise," Grandmother Sarabi interrupted, her gaze softening again. "It's completely understandable, given the circumstance, that you would want to help Crooks before taking care of the mess you made." She chuckled, and sat down next to us. "It's lucky when you got him when you did, Kiara, or who knows what would have happened, poor thing ..." she muttered, stroking Crooks behind the ears. She then looked at me, and tried to stifle a laugh as she said, "Well ... it certainly looks like he tried get away from you ..."

I sighed and said, "Do I really look that bad?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that," she said, still trying not to laugh, "but I think you need to get yourself cleaned up. Come on." She stood up and held out her hand.

"But what about breakfast? And my muddy footprints?"

"We'll worry about that later. Come on ..." Grandmother Sarabi wiggled her fingers and, smiling at her, I gave her my hands. After she helped me up, I quickly embraced her. Taken aback, Grandmother Sarabi slowly put her arms around me and said, "Whoa! What's brought this on all of a sudden, eh?"

Not wanting to go into details about my dream so soon, I said, "I'm just glad you're back home, Grandmother."

Grandmother Sarabi chuckled slightly, pulled back and said, "I haven't been gone that long, sweety. Now, come on ... let's go clean these cuts of yours." I left Crooks by the fire, where he curled up into a ball, purring contentedly, and followed Grandmother Sarabi to her room.

I remember her room like the back of my hand: it was large and spacious, just like mine was. The walls were amber coloured and the door was painted gold, which was the same colour as the lampshades she had for her ceiling light and her bedside lamp. The floor was hardwood and there was an amber rug on the floor. Her bed was a four-poster one, had many cushions in golds and blues and it had a golden duvet. A bureau was opposite her bed, which was white, with a large mirror attached. On top were pictures of me growing up and my father when he was a boy, the odd pieces of make-up and a few bottles of perfume. Next to the bureau, a bit higher up on the right-hand side of it hung a medicine cabinet.

She shut the door and I sat down on her bed as she went to her medicine cabinet and took out a small bottle of Dittany. She then sat down beside me and said, "This might sting a bit, all right?" I nodded, and she began dabbing. She was right, it stung just a little, but not for too long. I remember it feeling like something warm was healing me.

"Thanks, Grandmother," I said, with a small smile. I looked down at my hands, thinking about the dream (well, what I could remember of it at the time, anyway), and wondered how I would tell her, where would I start. Suddenly, Grandmother Sarabi touched my chin and turned my face up to see hers. I saw worry and concern etched onto her face as she inspected me closely.

"There's something worrying you that you're not telling me, isn't there, sweety?" she asked me. When I didn't answer straight away, she said, "Kiara, I can't help you unless you tell me. I'm here for you, you know that."

She looked at me so earnestly that I had to answer her, so I sighed deeply and said, "Well ... I - I had a bad dream last night ..." When Grandmother Sarabi looked sceptical, I said quickly, "It wasn't an ordinary dream, Grandmother! Zira was in it!"

That caught her attention, so I proceeded to tell her everything that I could remember from the dream: the Absters, the old woman, Zira herself, Zira killing someone, and about her plotting to kill me.. When I had finished, I saw the shock and horror on her face, and before I could turn my face away from her, she enveloped in the warmed, most loving hug she had ever given me. I hugged her back, relishing in the reassurance she gave me.

"Oh, my darling," she murmured into my hair through a slightly strangled voice. "My poor darling ..." she kissed my hair and pulled back, looking at me firmly. "You listen to me, Kiara Pride-Lander! I know you're scared and I completely understand why ... but nothing's happened yet. So, until something does - or you have another dream like this again - you go directly to Crighton, OK? No messing around about it. Do you hear me?" She looked at me pointedly and I nodded. She smiled at me and said, "That's my girl." She kissed my temple and we smiled at each other.

When she mentioned Crighton, it reminded me that she went to see her the night before. "Grandmother Sarabi, why did you go and see Crighton?"

Grandmother Sarabi looked at me mischievously and said, "Ah, well my dear, that is for me to know and you to soon find out!" She tapped me teasingly on the nose. I giggled slightly, before I jumped, as did Grandmother Sarabi, for something big banged on the glass pane of my window judging from the sound.

"I'll go see what that is," I said getting up.

"All right, sweety," said Grandmother Sarabi. "And while you're doing that, I'll take care of your muddy footprints."

I turned back to her, looking surprised. "But I thought I was - ?"

Grandmother Sarabi smiled, got up off her bed, took a few steps towards me and said, "You've had a rough night. I think I should give you some slack. Now go on, go see if you have mail." She winked at me and walked out, leaving me standing there, stunned for a few minutes. When I heard the sound of a pan banging against something, it seemed to jerk me back to reality. I quickly left Grandmother Sarabi's room and walked back to my own. Upon entering it, I got a surprise.

Three owl were waiting outside my window. The first, larger looking of the two was my own snowy owl, Harold, who must have banged into the window. The other two were what appeared to be small, grey feathery tennis balls that were both carrying a letter between them, and were hovering in the air. I saw Harold eyeing them disdainfully. Laughing, I reached across to my window and let them in. The two tiny owls dropped the letter at my feet and went twittering and flying madly round my head, whereas Harold flew next to his cage, and sat there elegantly, watching the other two fluffballs, clearly unimpressed. I laughed again and bent down to get the letter, upon which was Chrissie's handwriting. I tore open the letter and saw a hastily scribbled note.

 _Kiara -_ _DAD GOT THE TICKETS - Ireland versus South Africa, Monday night. Ma's asked Sarabi to come to ours to discuss the details with her and make sure she's OK with it, but I was too excited not to tell you and decided to send this with Pig and Cat anyway._

I stared at the words "Pig" and "Cat", then looked up at the tiny owls that were zooming around the lampshade on the ceiling. I had never seen anything that looked less like a pig and a cat before (but that was before I understood what that meant). I thought that I had misread Chrissie's handwriting. I went back to the letter:

 _When Sarabi gets back, find out what she tells you, then send your reply back with Pig and Cat and we'll come and get you at five o'clock on Sunday. Anyway, Sian's arriving back from her holiday with Ma this afternoon. Perdy's started work - the Department of International Magical Co-operation. Don't mention anything about Abroad if you want to get the pants bored off of you._

 _See you soon - Chrissie_

A warm feeling of happiness surged through me and I quickly flung my door open, dashed downstairs and ran to Grandmother Sarabi. When she heard me coming, she turned round and, before she could do or say anything, I hugged her tightly, saying a bunch of thank yous into her neck. She laughed and stroked my hair. Pulling back, she looked at my glowing face teasingly and said, "Well, what's brought this good mood on all of a sudden?"

"Oh, don't give me that, Grandmother, I know that you know," I said.

Grandmother Sarabi looked mocking shocked at me and said, with a hand over her heart, "Oh, my own granddaughter's got the better of me! How will I ever live it down?"

"Oh, stop teasing me, Grandmother," I said, brushing that aside. "So ... will you let me go?" I asked, feeling nervous about her answer.

I could see Grandmother's eyes getting a mischievous twinkle in them again, but something on my face must have shown my impatience, so she quickly stopped that, sighed, smiled and said, "Yes, you can go to the Quidditch Friendly and stay with the Dawsons for the rest of your summer."

I squealed with delight and hugged her again, saying, "Oh, thank you, Grandmother!" I then kissed her cheek and then ran back to my room, where the tiny owls were still zooming around madly, which I could only assume was pride at having delivered the letter to the right person. I chuckled at the sight of them, shook my head slightly and said, "Calm down, you two! Come here, I need you both to take my answer back."

The owls fluttered down on top of Harold's cage. Harold looked coldly up at them, as though he dared them to come any closer.

I seized my eagle-feather quill once more, grabbed a fresh piece of parchment and wrote:

 _Chrissie, it's OK, Grandmother Sarabi says I can come. See you five o'clock tomorrow. Can't wait._

 _Kiara_

I folded this note up and, with immense difficulty, I tied it to the owls' legs as they hopped on the spot with excitement. The moment the note was secure, the owls were off again; they zoomed out the window and out of sight.

I then turned my attentions to Harold.

"Feeling up for a long journey?" I asked him.

Harold hooted in a dignified sort of way.

"Can you take this to my parents for me?" I said, picking up my letter. "Hang on ... I need to finish it."

I unfolded the parchment again and hastily added a post-script.

 _If you want to contact me, I'll be at Dawson Manor for the rest of the summer. Mr Dawson's got tickets for the Quidditch Friendly that's happening!_

The letter finished, I tied it to Harold's leg; he kept unusually still, as though he was determined to show me how a real post owl should behave.

"I'll be at Chrissie's when you get back, all right?" I told him.

He nipped my finger affectionately and then, with a swooshing noise, spread his enormous wings and soared out of the open window.

I watched him go out of sight, then I shut my bedroom window and, smiling, I dashed back downstairs and to the kitchen, to see if I could sneak a piece of one of the birthday cakes that I had left from my friends before breakfast that morning. Hee-hee!

0000

At five o'clock the next day, I stood by the fireplace with my trunk all packed and Harold's cage with my grandmothers beside me. A weak haze of sunshine lit up the room as the three of us waited for Mr Dawson to come and get me. I remember the feeling of pure excitement that filled me up, as I danced on the balls of my feet, waiting.

About ten minutes later, the tall, slightly large figure of Mr Dawson arrived in the middle of the fire. He was a man in his early forties, who had brown hair that was going grey, blue-grey eyes and a very freckled face. He smiled warmly at us as he stepped out of the grate.

"Kiara!" he said, beaming, as he grasped my hand. "It's good to see you again, my dear girl!"

"It's good to see you too, sir," I said, as Chrissie stepped out of the fireplace. Mr Dawson turned around to face his second child and said in a rather teasing tone, "Ah, good, Chrissie, you did what I said for once?"

"Thanks, Dad," said Chrissie glumly, before she turned to me, grinned and said, "It's good to see you, Kiara! I'm so happy you're coming to stay with us, and - wow!" Chrissie's head turned in all directions, taking in the beauty of my cosy little home. "This place is beautiful!"

"Yes," said Mr Dawson, nodding in agreement, as he looked around. He saw the pictures on top of the fire and said, "Ah, this reminds me of my kids when they were this young." (They were baby pictures of me, if anyone wants to know what he was looking at.)

"Aw, look at the cute little baby!" said Chrissie in a teasing tone, as she held me tight in her arms, grinning cheekily.

"Oh - gerroff, Chrissie!" I said, pulling myself away from her. Chrissie laughed. I rolled my eyes.

"All right, you two," said Mr Dawson firmly, with a slight twinkle in his eyes, "we need to get going now. So, Kiara, why don't you get your - ah, good, I see you have your things together. Good, good, good! All right then, say farewell to your grandmother's, Kiara. Chrissie, can you take Kiara's things back to the Manor for me, please, with the powder you have? Don't worry about me, Chrissie," he said answering her questioning look. "When I'm done here, I'll Apparate back to the Manor. Go on."

"OK, Dad," she said. She grabbed my trunk and Harold's cage, said "Bye," to my grandmothers, who nodded at her. She walked to the fireplace, put Harold's cage down, reached into her pocket and pulled out a little bit of emerald green powder, threw it into the grate, in which emerald green flames immediately burst into life. Chrissie then picked up my trunk and Harold's cage, walked into the flames, said "Dawson Manor!" and the flames swept her up and died. Chrissie was gone.

I turned to Grandmother Sarafina, who smiled and hugged me. She said, "Oh, you be good for us, OK?"

"Grandmother Sarafina, I'm not a kid anymore!" I said, rolling my eyes, but I smiled and said, "Don't worry I will be." We shared another smile and I moved on to Grandmother Sarabi. We hugged and she said, "If you need anything, write to me, you hear?"

"Yes, Grandmother Sarabi," I said. We pulled back and Mr Dawson chucked a bit more Floo powder into the grate for my benefit, and some more emerald green flames burst into life. I walked into them and said, loudly and clearly, "Dawson Manor!"

The last thing I saw before I was swept up by the flames was my grandmothers' beaming faces, before I went spinning around through countless fireplaces, before my feet stood firmly in one of the many grates in Dawson Manor.

0000

 **The thing about the Quidditch Friendly between Ireland and South Africa taking place in Britain makes no sense, I know, but it's just a plot device for what's going to happen in a few more chapters, so just go with it. Until I update again ...**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 **Fangs' Friendly Funnies**

 **KIARA**

When I opened my eyes, I found myself standing in the grate of the Dawsons' kitchen fire. As I looked around, I saw the smiling faces of Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel and Tanya and Geri Fang, who were all sitting around the long wooden table, with two brown-haired people I had never seen before, though I immediately knew who they were: Samantha and Kat Fang, cousins of the Dawsons, and Tanya, Geri and Perdy's sisters.

"How're you doing, Kiara?" said the nearer of the two, grinning at me and holding out a hand, which I shook when I got out of the grate, feeling calluses and blisters under my fingers. This had to be Kat, who worked with dragons in Rumania. Kat was built like the twins, but was shorter and stockier that Perdy. She had a long face, which was weather-beaten and so freckly that she looked almost tanned; her arms were muscly (clearly working with dragons meant that she worked out a lot), and one of them had a large, shiny burn on it.

Samantha - or Sam, as everyone calls her - came as something of a surprise to me. I knew that she worked for the wizarding bank Fauntrotts, that she had been Head Girl of Dragon Mort and I had always imagined Sam to be an older version of Perdy, fussy of rule-breaking and fond of bossing everyone around. However, Sam was - there was no other word for it - _cool_. She was about as tall as Sian - more or less - with short hair that reached just below her neck. She had a warm smile and wore square-framed glasses. She also wore earrings - one in each ear - with what looked like Hippogriff claws that were shortened dangling from them. Her clothes could have been worn at a rock concert, except that I noticed her boots were made, not of leather, but of dragon hide.

Before any of us could say anything, there was a faint popping noise, and Mr Dawson appeared out of thin air at Geri's side. He looked genuinely happy, smiling around at everyone, before his gaze finally rested on me.

"Well, Kiara, I am pleased to tell you that your grandmothers are happy with our arrangements. They will be expecting a letter from you telling them all about the Quidditch Friendly, and they will meet you at the Sub House on - "

Before Mr Dawson could continue, Chris ran into the room through the back door, took a quick look around the room, saw me, ran to me and hugged me so hard that I had to lean forwards so that we didn't fall to the floor in a heap.

"Kiara!" he said, once his feet were on the ground again. He let go of me so I could look at him properly. "It's so good to see you again! I've really missed you ..." His voice trailed off as he said this and his face turned red, for he then realised that there were other people in the room; Tanya and Geri were stifling their laughter, whilst Sam, Kat, Beth, Kestrel, Chrissie and Mr Dawson smiled sweetly at us. I turned my attention back to Chris, my own cheeks gaining more pink in them.

"You have?" I asked, surprised. "But, it's only been a month."

"Yeah, well, it seemed like for ever to me," said Chris. As he said this, a collective "Aww!" swept across the room. Ignoring this, Chris hurried on, "So, did everything go all right?"

"Yes it did, Chris, and - Geri!" Mr Dawson said suddenly, his eyes fixed on Geri, and a worried expression on his face. "What's that you've got in your hand?"

"What?" said Geri innocently, as she put something plum coloured back in her pocket and sharing a grin with Tanya. Mr Dawson's face suddenly turned from anxious to furious.

"Don't you use that innocent tone on me, young lady! You know as well as I do that Sian and I do not approve of this. Laugh all you want," he said, as Tanya and Geri shared a laugh at Sian, "but you know as well as I do that Sian is a formidable force when someone messes with her, and f she finds out that you two have been making more of those things, she'll find out, tell her mother and then we'll all be in trouble, and trust me, I don't think it's be good if Sian and my wife found out about - "

"Tell Ma and I what, exactly?" said a voice behind us.

Sian had just entered the kitchen, she was a tall and - slowly becoming - slender girl of fourteen with a very kind face, though her eyes were at that moment narrowed with suspicion.

"Oh, hello again, Kiara," she said, spotting me and smiling. Then her eyes snapped back to her father. "Tell Ma and I _what_ , Dad?"

Mr Dawson hesitated. I could tell that, however angry he was with his nieces, he hadn't really intended to tell Sian and her mother what happened, Sian in particular. There was a silence as Mr Dawson eyed his eldest daughter nervously.

"Tell Ma and I _what_ , Dad?" said Sian, in a dangerous sort of voice, but Mr Dawson didn't answer, so Sian went on: "Fine, if you won't tell me then you can tell - "

"No, Sian, there's no need to call - !"began Mr Dawson, but it was too late.

"MOTHER!" she shouted. "Dad wants to tell you something about Tanya and Geri, but won't tell me! Can you come down and help me find out what's going on, please?"

There was a slight pause, during which Sam, Kat, Tanya, Geri, Chris, Chrissie, Beth and Kestrel glanced nervously at each other and a slight mumbling could be heard from above, which Sian must have heard perfectly for she yelled back, "Thanks, Ma!" then turned back to her father and said smugly, "You're in for it now, Dad."

"How could you betray me like that, Sian?" said Mr Dawson, in a hurt tone. "How could you betray me to your mother like that, Sian?"

"Sorry Dad, but when it comes between you and Ma, Ma always comes first," said Sian, sweeping her hair back with her hand. "And besides, as the oldest in our family, it's my job to ensure that everything in this house is always under control. So before you mention to Ma anything you don't want her to know about, I suggest you keep it to yourself before you mention it when I'm around, because you know who I am."

There was a silence in the kitchen, during which Mr Dawson stared at the table with a troubled look on his face, Sian smiled smugly at the ceiling and the rest of us tried not to smile. Then, a couple of minutes later, Crighton appeared at Sian's right side, and the two women smiled like they hadn't seen each other in ages and were glad to be reunited.

"Siany," said Crighton.

"No," Sian replied (she hates it when her parents - and now Kopa - use that name in front of people; she won't even let her siblings or cousins say it, not even me). It always surprised me how alike Sian and her mother were; Sian and Crighton were the same height as each other now, both with waist-length hair which curled inwardly at the end, although the colours of their hair were different shades of brown: Sian's was almost black, whereas Crighton's was caramel with streaks of silver that were starting to show through and a few aging lines showed on her face.

"Professor Crighton, it's good to see you," I said.

Crighton turned to me at the sound of my voice, her smile warm and welcoming and her green eyes twinkling as always. She said, "Hello, Kiara. It's good to see you."

"Why are you here?" I asked her.

"Well, Kiara, someone has to watch over the house while you are all at the Quidditch Friendly tomorrow." Then her smile faded and she turned to her husband. "So, what have you got to tell me about Tanya and Geri, Matthew?"

"Oh, nothing, Susan," mumbled Mr Dawson, "Tanya and Geri just - but I've had words with them - "

"What have they done this time?" said Crighton, with a small twinkle in her eyes. "I fit's got anything to do with _Fangs' Friendly_ _Funnies_ \- "

"Why don't you show Kiara the larger attic, Chrissie?" said Sian, still beside Crighton.

"She knows where it is," said Chrissie. "We showed her last - "

"You, Chris, Kiara and I can _all go_ ," said Sian pointedly.

"Oh," said Chrissie, cottoning on. "Right."

"Yeah, we'll come, too," said Tanya.

"Oh no, you won't my dear," said Crighton, her gaze fixed on Tanya and her sister. "You, Geri and my husband will stay here. The rest of you may go."

We didn't need to be told twice. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I walked across the long kitchen, followed quickly by the others, up the stairs and into the ancestry corridor. We walked as quick as we could away from the kitchen and Mr Dawson's stuttering mumbles. We quickly arrived in the main hall and climbed the staircase to the family area, where the Dawsons' rooms were. Beth and Kestrel left us - as did Sam and Kat - on this floor, and the four of us kept on going pas Max's (the youngest Dawson) room, opened another door, went up another flight of stairs and came into a new corridor lined with doors - which I was told was for other family members (cousins, aunts, uncles, etc.) of the Dawson clan.

"What are _Fangs' Friendly Funnies_? What was that thing that Geri put in her pocket? And why is Crighton so involved in all this? She's not her mother, after all," I said, as we kept walking.

Chris and Chrissie laughed, though Sian didn't.

"When I was cleaning their room earlier this summer, I found this stack of order forms," said Sian quietly. "Great long price-lists for stuff they've invented - such as Shrivelled Skin Sweet, which is what you saw Geri holding. It's basically a bunch of joke stuff and sweets that do strange things to your body - gross magic, in other words." Sian shuddered.

"It was brilliant. None of us knew they'd been doing that," said Chris, awestruck, ignoring Sian's disapproving glance. "We've been hearing explosions from their room for the past few weeks - they're staying with us 'cause of the Quidditch Friendly and our Aunt Pam - their mum - she couldn't get tickets, you know - but we never thought they were actually _making_ things. We just thought they liked the noise."

"Only, most of the stuff - well, all of it, really - was a bit dangerous," said Chrissie, "and, you know, they were planning to sell it at Dragon Mort to make some money, and Sian went mad about it and told Ma because it was her responsibility. Then she wrote to Ma about it, who wrote to Aunt Pam (that's why she's involved, 'cause Ma wants what's best for them, as does Aunt Pam). So Aunt Pam came round, told them they weren't allowed to make any more of it, asked for the forms and burnt them all. Aunt Pam's quite angry at them, anyway. They didn't get as many OWLs as she expected."

And for anyone who doesn't know (or has forgotten) OWLs were Ordinary Wizarding Levels , the examinations that Dragon Mort students (as well as the Hogwarts ones) took at the age of fifteen.

"And then there was this big row," said Chris, "because Aunt Pam wants them to go into the Ministry of Magic like Dad, and Tan' and Ger' told them that all they want to do is open a joke shop. Plus, she's saying that if they make any more forms, she'll chuck them out."

Just then, a door at the end of the corridor opened, and a face poked out, wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a very annoyed expression.

"Hello, Perdy," I said.

"Oh, hello, Kiara," said Perdy. "I was wondering who was making all the noise. I'm trying to work in here, you know - I've got a report to finish for the office - and it's rather difficult to concentrate when people keep thundering up and down the stairs."

"We're not _thundering_ ," said Chrissie irritably. "We're walking. Sorry if we disturbed the top-secret workings of the Ministry of Magic."

"Yeah, and it wouldn't hurt for you to take a chill-pill every once in a while, would it?" said Chris.

"Well said, bro," said Chrissie, and she and Chris high-fived each other whilst Perdy and Sian glared at them.

"What are you working on?" I said.

"A report for the International Magical Co-operation," said Perdy smugly. "We're trying to scandalise irregular usage and improper stores of Floo powder. Some foreign imports of the stuff are a bit unsafe, truth be told - cursed powder or fireplaces not hooked to the network - injuries have been increasing at a rate of almost three per-cent a year - "

"That will change the world, that report will," said Chrissie. "Front page of the _Daily Squabbler_ , I expect, Floo regulations."

Perdy went slightly pink.

"You might sneer, Chrissie," she said heatedly, "but unless some sort of international law is imposed we might find people from all over the world colliding in fireplaces , or else someone dead due to cursed Floo powder - "

Chris and Chrissie both spoke at once.

"Oh, like we care - "

"whatever, Perdy - "

But before they could continue, Sian yelled, "All right, you two, that's enough! Chris, Chrissie, why don't we stop being rude and leave Perdy to carry on with her work in peace, shall we?"

"Thank you, Sian. I like having you around, it's useful when you're trying to get rid of _rude_ people," said Perdy.

"No problem, Perdita. Come on, guys, let's go to the attic. See you at dinner, Perdy." And without so much as a "see you later" to Sian, Perdy slammed her bedroom door shut. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I continued on to the attic, and as we walked, we heard Crighton's voice shouting all the way from the kitchen. It was amazing how far that woman's voice could travel sometimes.

The attic looked the same as the last time I had stayed at Dawson Manor; articles and pictures of aliens and troublesome criminals - both wizards and Muggles alike - were pinned to the walls. The back wall had a secret computer which helped Sian get in touch with her friend, Wayde, whenever she needed to find out about someone or analyse something. Also on the back wall were two new pictures of owls, the same two owls which had delivered my letter from Chrissie at my grandmothers' cottage. Sian had signed them, which meant that she had drawn them herself. The attic was also filled with gadgets and gizmos of alien and wizarding technology that had been given to Sian by her mother over the years. But the pictures of the owls did remind me of the names of them.

"Er - why do you and Chrissie call your owls Pig and Cat, Chris?" I asked him.

"Because they're being stupid," said Sian. "Chrissie's owl's called Piggledon and Chris' owl's called Cattonia."

"Yeah, and they're not stupid names at all," said Chris sarcastically. " Merida named them," he explained to me. "She reckons those names are sweet. Chrissie and I tried to change them but it was too late. They won't answer to anything else. So now they're Pig and Cat. We've got to keep them in our rooms because they annoy Arrol and everyone else here, except for Merry and Sian. They annoy me and Chrissie, too, come to that."

I knew Chris and Chrissie too well by this point to take them seriously. They had moaned continually about their old pets - Chrissie's cat, Felix and Chris' rat, Claws - but had been most upset when Sian's cat, Lucifer, appeared to have killed them.

"Where's Lucifer?" I asked Sian.

"Out in the garden, I expect," she said. "He loves to have a good run in the garden, and he deserves it after all the rain we had over the past few weeks."

"So, Perdy's enjoying work, then?" I said, sitting down on the couch opposite the door and picking up a harmless crystal.

"Enjoying it?" said Chrissie darkly. "I don't reckon she'd come home if Dad didn't make her. She's obsessed. Just don't get her on the subject of her boss. _According to Mrs Clutch ... as I was saying to Mrs Clutch ... Mrs Clutch is of the opinion_ m _... Mrs Clutch was telling me ..._ They'll be announcing their engagement any day now." Chris chuckled.

"Have you had a good summer, Kiara?" said Sian. "Did you get our parcels and everything?"

"Yeah, thanks a lot," I said. "I'm glad I got cakes on my birthday ... but there's something I don't understand from what you said before ..."

"What's that, Kiara?" said Chris.

"Why did Crighton talk to your Aunt Pam instead of your dad? I mean, he is her brother, isn't he?"

"Oh, he is, but he fell out with her a few years back," said Chrissie.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean - "

"Don't apologise, Kiara. Besides, we don't remember because we were young and many other members of our family have fallen out with her too - well, except us and the rest of our siblings."

There was an awkward silence, then Sian said, "I think they've stopped arguing. Shall we go and help Ma with dinner?"

"Yeah, all right, then," said Chris, and the four of us left the attic and went back downstairs to the kitchen, to find Crighton alone in it, taking deep breaths to calm herself.

"We're eating out in the garden," she said when we came in. "There's just not enough room for eighteen people in here. Sian, could you help me in the kitchen whilst you two girls take the plates outside, please? Sam and Kat are setting up tables. Knives and forks please, Christopher," she said to Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I, pointing her wand a little more vigorously than she had intended at a pile of potatoes in the sink, which shot out of their skins so fast that they richoted off the walls and ceiling.

Crighton huffed, then directed her wand at the dustpan, which hopped off the side and started skating across the floor, scooping up the potatoes. "Those two," she sighed, now pulling pots and pans out of a cupboard, and I knew she meant Tanya and Geri. "I don't know what's going to happen to them, I really don't, and neither does their mother, though she doesn't help much. She keeps saying that they've no ambition, unless you count making as much trouble as they possibly can, even though she doesn't do anything ..."

"Now, Ma," Sian chastised, as she chopped vegetables nearby.

"I know, Sian, I know," said Crighton, as she put a large copper saucepan down on one of the benches and began to wave her wand inside it. A creamy sauce poured from the wand tip as she stirred.

"It's not as though they haven't got brains," Sian said, as she started to chop carrots; Crighton took the saucepan to the stove and lit it with a further poke of her wand, "but they're wasting time. I know I'm not their mother but I'm concerned about them, and unless they pull themselves together soon, they'll be in real trouble , and even though Aunt Pam does nothing, I know she worries about them. She's had more letters from Dragon Mort about them than the rest of her family put together. If they carry on the way they're going, they'll end up in front of the Improper Use of Magic Office."

"I know, darling, but what can you do?" Crighton asked, as she jabbed her wand at the cutlery drawer, which shot open. Chris, Chrissie and I ducked out of the way as several knives soared out of it, flew across the kitchen and began chopping the potatoes, which had just been tipped in the sink by the dustpan.

"I know, Ma. But I can't help wondering where Aunt Pam went wrong with those two, and neither does she, for that matter," said Sian, as Crighton put her wand down and started to pull out still more saucepans. "It's been the same for years, one thing after another, and yet they still won't listen to - OH, NOT AGAIN!"

She had picked up a quill from beside the table; it emitted a loud squeak and turned into a rubber mouse. "One of their fake quills _again_!" she shouted. "How many times have I told those two not to leave these lying around?"

Sian slammed the mouse onto the table and glared at her mother, who chuckled softly as she looked at the sauce on the stove that was smoking.

Chris, Chrissie and I got the plates, knives and forks and went to help Sam and Kat.

When we got outside, we had only gone a few paces when Sian's bandy-legged black cat Lucifer came pelting out of the garden, bottle-brush tail held high in the air, chasing a butterfly and trying to catch , a very loud crashing noise came from the other side of the house. The source of the commotion was revealed as we entered the garden and saw that Sam and Kat both had their wands out, and were making two battered old tables fly high above the lawn, smashing into each other, each attempting to knock the other's out of the air. Tanya and Geri were cheering; Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Ben and Dave all laughed.

Sam's table caught Kat's with a huge bang, and knocked one of its legs off. There was a clatter from overhead, and we all looked up to see Perdy's head poked out of a window on the second floor.

"Will you keep it down?" she bellowed.

"Sorry, Perd," said Sam, grinning. "How're the Floo problems coming on?"

"Very badly," said Perdy peevishly, and she slammed the window shut again. Chuckling, Sam and Kat directed the tables safely onto the grass, end to end, and then, with a flick of her wand, Sam reattached the table leg, as Kat brought out another table. One the three tables were put together, Sam conjured tablecloths from nowhere.

By seven o'clock that evening, a radio blasted out the words to Corey Smoulder's "A Little Bit of Black Magic, the three tables groaned under dishes and dishes of Crighton and Sian's excellent cooking, and the eleven Dawsons, two Sevilles, five Fangs and myself were settling ourselves down to eat beneath a clear, deep blue sky. I was very hungry that night, so I listened rather than talked at first as I helped myself to chicken-and-ham pie, boiled potatoes and salad.

At the far end of the table, Perdy was telling her uncle all about her report on Floo powder and the Floo Network.

"I've told Mrs Clutch that I'll have it ready by Tuesday," Perdy said pompously. "That's a bit sooner than she expected it, but I like to keep on top of things. I think she'll be grateful that I've done it in good time. I mean, it's extremely busy in our department just now, what with all the arrangements for the Quidditch Friendly. We're just not getting the support we need from the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Lynnette Baxter - "

"I like Lynnette," said Mr Dawson mildly. "She was the one who got us such good tickets for the Friendly. I did her a bit of a favour; her sister, Dora, got into a bit of trouble - a lawn-mower with unnatural powers - not my department, I know, but she did come to me first and I did manage to smooth the whole thing over."

"Oh, Baxter's _likeable_ enough, of course," said Perdy dismissively, "but how she got to be Head of Department ... When I compare her to Mrs Clutch! I can't see Mrs Clutch losing a member of our department and not trying to find out what's happened to them. You realise Bernard Jenkins has been missing for over a month now? Went on holiday and never came back?"

"Yes, I was asking Lynnette about that," said Mr Dawson, frowning. "She says Bernard's got lost plenty of times before now - though I must say, if it was someone in my department, I'd be worried ..."

"Oh, Bernard's hopeless, all right," said Perdy. "I hear he's been shunned from department to department for years, much more trouble than he's worth ... but all the same, Baxter ought to be finding him. Mrs Clutch has been taking a personal interest - he worked in our department at one time, you know, and I think Mrs Clutch was quite fond of him - but Baxter just keeps laughing and says that he probably misread the map and ended up in Austria instead. of Albania. However," Perdy heaved and impressive sigh, and took a swig of elderflower wine, "we've got quite enough on our plates at the Department of International Magical Co-operation without trying to find members of other departments too. As you know, we've got another big event to organise right after the Quidditch Friendly."

She cleared her throat significantly and looked down towards the end of the table where Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I were sat. " _You_ know the one I'm talking about, Uncle Matt." She raised her voice slightly. "The top-secret one."

Chrissie rolled her eyes and muttered to me, "She's been trying to get us to ask her what the event is ever since she got here. Probably an exhibition of cursed Floo powder."

In the middle of the table, Crighton (with a little help from Sian at our end) told whoever would listen to them about their recent summer holiday to Disneyland in Florida.

"Sian helped me with my Muggle clothes, but we had lots of fun and went on a lot of the rides there."

"Yeah, and we got autographs and pictures with many of the characters there, and we saw _Beauty and the Beast_ show over there, which wasn't as good as the movie in my opinion, but at least I could buy the DVD of it, get the Broadway cast recording of it and get souvenirs for all of you while we were there. Oh, and you had to see the parades."

"Oh, yes, indeed," said Crighton. "The firework displays were wonderful!"

Next to Crighton, Tanya, Geri and Sam were all talking spiritedly about the Quidditch Friendly.

"It's got to be Ireland," said Sam thickly, through a mouthful of potato. "They flattened Russia in their Friendly."

"South Africa have got Outsider, though," said Geri.

"Outsider's one decent player, Ireland have got seven," said Sam shortly. "It would've been nice if England had won their Friendly, though. That was embarrassing, that was."

"What happened?" I said eagerly, regretting more than ever at that moment not only my isolation from the wizarding world, but also the fact that I couldn't play Quidditch (being in close proximity to Muggles) whilst I was at my grandmothers' cottage. I was - and still am - passionate about Quidditch. For those of you who need reminding - yet again - I had played Seeker on the Lion-Heart Quidditch team ever since my first year at Dragon Mort, and I owned a Firecracker, one of the best racing brooms in the world.

"Went down to Transylvania, three hundred and ninety to ten," said Sam gloomily. "Shocking performance. And Wales lost to Uganda and Scotland were slaughtered by Luxembourg."

Mr Dawson conjured up candles to light the darkening garden before we had our pudding (home-made strawberry ice-cream) and by the time we had all finished, moths fluttered low over the table and the warm air was perfumed with smells of grass and honeysuckle. I remember feeling extremely well fed and at peace with the world as I watched Lucifer chase several moths. Sian had just gone inside to get her photographs of what happened in Disneyland.

After that, Chris looked carefully up the table to make sure the rest were busy talking, before he turned to me and said very quietly, "So, have you heard from your parents lately?"

Sian and Chrissie leaned in closer, in order to listen better.

"Yeah," I said softly, "twice. They sound OK. I wrote to them the day before yesterday. They might write back while I'm here."

I then suddenly remembered the reason why I wrote to my parents and, for a moment, I was on the verge of telling Chris, Sian and Chrissie about my scar hurting again and about the dream that woke me up ... but I really didn't want to worry them just then, not when I felt so peaceful and happy (boy, that did not last long - but we'll get to that).

"Look at the time," Crighton said suddenly, checking her watch. "You really should be in bed, the whole lot of you. You'll be up at the crack of dawn to get to the Friendly. Kiara, if you leave your school list on your bedside dresser, I'll get your things from you tomorrow in Brickabon Alley. I'm getting everyone else's. There may not be time after the Friendly; the match went on for five days once."

"Wow - I hope it does this time!" I said enthusiastically.

"Well, I certainly don't," said Perdy sanctimoniously. "I _shudder_ to think what the state of my in-tray would be if I was to stay away from my work for five days."

"Yeah, someone might slip dragon dung in it again, eh, Perd?"said Geri.

"That was a sampled of fertiliser from Norway!" said Perdy, who went very red in the face. "It was nothing _personal_!"

"It was," Geri whispered to me as we got up from the table. "We sent it."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 **The Portkey**

 **KIARA**

I felt as though I had barely laid down to sleep in my room when I was being shaken awake by Sian.

"Time to get up, Kiara," she said. "Now, don't go back to sleep. Breakfast's being prepared as we speak, and - oh, for God's sake, RICKERS!" she said, raising her voice and marching to my door. "IF I FIND THAT YOU'VE GONE BACK TO SLEEP, I AM GOING TO BE VERY CROSS WITH YOU!" She then left to wake the others as I just lay there, stunned.

I sat up slowly, got out of bed, switched on my lamp and opened the curtains. It was still dark outside. Yawning and stretching I got dressed and, still yawning and stretching, I headed downstairs to the kitchen.

Sian was stirring the contents of a large pot on the stove, whilst Crighton was sorting out the cutlery and bowls and Mr Dawson was sat at the table, checking a large sheaf of parchment tickets. He looked up as myself, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Tanya and Geri - who I didn't see behind me - and spread his arms wide so that we could see what he was wearing more clearly. What he wore was a plain black t-shirt with a denim jacket over it and a pair of new jeans, which fitted him perfectly.

"What d'you think?" he asked anxiously. "We're supposed to go incognito and Sian helped me with the clothes - do I look like a Muggle, Kiara?"

"Yeah," I said smiling, "very good."

Mr Dawson smiled, relieved, and gave a sigh that emanated that.

"Where're Sam and Kat and Per-Per-Perdy?" said Tanya, failing to stifle a yawn.

"Well, they're Apparating, aren't they?" said Sian, heaving the large pot over to the table and starting to ladle porridge into the bowls. "So they can have a bit of a lie-in."

I knew that Apparating was very difficult; it meant disappearing from one place and reappearing almost instantly in another.

"So they're still in bed?" said Tanya grumpily, as she pulled her bowl of porridge towards her. "Why can't we Apparate, too?"

"Because you are not of age and you have not had your test yet, dear," said Crighton gently. She then looked at the door to the kitchen and frowned. "I bet those boys have gone back to sleep. I'll just go and - "

"It's all right, Mother," said Sian, as she filled the pot with water and put it back on the stove after she filled the last bowl with porridge. "Since I'm already standing, I'll go and check the boys whilst you all eat up." A mischievous look then came over her face, and she asked her mother slyly, "Mother, may I use the - "

"Yes you may. Thank you, _magi_ ," said Crighton warmly to Sian.

"No problem, Ma," said Sian, smiling just as warmly back at her mother before she bustled out of the kitchen with a wicked smile on her face. I was confused about what was going on, but apparently I was the only one, for the others all hid their smiles of mirth and glee.

"What's going on?" I asked cluelessly.

"You'll see in a few moments, Kiara," said Mr Dawson, with a twinkle in his eye. He and Crighton shared a look and everyone around me tried to stifle their laughter. I was confused but decided to turn my attention to the subject of Apparition.

"So, you have to pass a test to Apparate?" I asked Mr Dawson.

"Oh, yes," said Crighton, as she poured honey onto her porridge. "I heard from my husband here that the Department of Magical Transportation had to fine a couple of people the other day for Apparating without a licence. It's not easy, Apparition, and when it's not done properly it can lead to nasty complications. The pair I'm talking about went and splinched themselves."

Everyone around the table except me winced.

"Er - _splinched_?"

"They left half of themselves behind," said Mr Dawson, as he tucked the tickets safely into the back pocket of his jeans. "So, of course, they were stuck. Couldn't move either way. Had to wait for the Accidental Magical Reversal Squad to sort it all out. Meant a fair old bit of paperwork, I can tell you, what with the Muggles who spotted the body parts they left behind ..."

I remember having a sudden vision of a pair of legs and an eyeball lying abandoned outside my grandmothers' cottage, and I inwardly giggled. This was, of course, the time before I realised just how dangerous splinching is ...

There was then the sound of something like a fog horn that sounded from the other side of the house that made us all jump, the sound of screaming and many thumps. Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Tanya, Geri, Mr Dawson and Crighton all laughed.

"Looks like Sian's woke the boys up, then?" smirked Geri. Everyone laughed again.

"I don't understand ... what's she done?" I asked.

Once the laughter had subsided, Crighton said, "She's used an air horn, Kiara. An ingenious little Muggle invention which Sian uses when she can't get her brothers and sisters up on time. She only uses it here, though. Nowhere else. True, it is quite cruel, but believe me the results are very satisfying." Crighton ended on a laugh, and the whole room rang with laughter again, and this time I joined in. When it had stopped, I turned back to Mr Dawson.

"Were they OK? The two that splinched themselves, I mean?"

"Oh yes," said Mr Dawson matter-of-factly. "But they got a heavy fine, and I don't think they'll be trying it again any time soon. You don't mess around with Apparition. There are plenty of adult wizards who don't bother with it. Prefer brooms - slower, but safer."

"But Sam, Kat and Perdy can all do it?"

"Kat had to take the test twice," said Geri, grinning. "She failed the first time, Apparated five miles south of where she meant to, right on top of some poor old dear doing her shopping, remember?"

"Yes, well she passed the second time," said Sian, marching back into the kitchen amid heavy sniggers, wearing a satisfied smile on her face.

"I take it that it worked well, Siany?" said Mr Dawson to his eldest child, smiling cheekily.

"Like a dream, Dad," Sian said, smirking into her bowl of porridge. Mr Dawson and Crighton chuckled.

"Perdy passed two weeks ago," said Tanya. "She's been Apparating downstairs every morning since, just to prove she can."

There were footsteps down the passageway and Chris, Joe, Jack, Ben and Dave came into the kitchen, the five of them looking pale and drowsy.

"Why do we have to get up so early?" said Chris, rubbing his eyes and sitting down at the table.

"We've got a bit of a walk ahead of us," said Mr Dawson.

"Walk?" I said. "What, are we walking to the Friendly?"

"No, no, that's miles away," said Mr Dawson, smiling. "We only need to walk a short way. It's just that it's very difficult for a large number of wizards to congregate without attracting Muggle attention. We have to be very careful about how we travel at the best of times, and for an event like this - "

"Tanya!" said Sian sharply, and we all jumped.

"What?" said Tanya, in an innocent tone that fooled none of us.

Sian got up from her seat and moved around the table and faced Tanya.

"What is that bag in your pocket full of?"

"Nothing!"

"Don't you lie to me!"

And before Tanya could move so much as an inch, Sian reached into the inside pocket of Tanya's jacket, and pulled out a small leather bag, which was full to the brim of plum-coloured objects.

"Look at these, Ma! After you and Aunt Pam told these two to destroy them, they're still making more!" said Sian furiously, as she moved around the table to show her mother, which was full of what I could clearly see were Shrivelled-Skin Sweets. Crighton sighed and shook her head.

"I thought your mother told you to destroy the lot," said Crighton, in a disappointed voice. "Empty your pockets, both of you. Now, please."

It was an unpleasant scene to say the least; the twins had evidently been trying to smuggle as many sweets out of the house as possible, and it was only by using a Summoning Charm that Crighton was able to get them all. Of course, seeing as nothing escapes Sian's and - indeed - Crighton's eyes, there was no possible way that Tanya and Geri could have gotten away with it.

 _"Accio! Accio! Accio!"_ said Crighton, and sweets zoomed from all sorts of places, including the lining of Tanya's jacket and the turn-ups of Geri's jeans.

"We spent six months developing and ordering those!" Ger shouted, as Crighton threw the sweets onto the fire (and to my eyes, it seemed like she was reluctantly doing it).

"What a fine way to spend six months!" Sian shrieked. "No wonder you didn't get more OWLs!"

All in all, the atmosphere was not very friendly as we made our departure. Crighton was still frowning as she said goodbye to us and hugged and kissed her children and husband, though not as much as the twins, who had each hoisted their rucksacks onto their backs and walked out without a word to her.

"Well, have a lovely time," said Crighton, "and _behave yourselves_." she called after the twins' retreating backs, but they did not look back or answer her. "I'll send Sam, Kat and Perdy along around midday," Crighton said to Mr Dawson, as he, Sian, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Chris, Joe, Jack, Ben, Dave and myself set off across the dark yard after Tanya and Geri, out the gate and off into the woods.

It was chilly and the moon was still out. Only a dull, green-ish tinge along the horizon to our right showed us that daybreak was drawing closer. I had been thinking about thousands of wizards speeding towards the Quidditch Friendly, so I sped up to walk with Mr Dawson.

"So how _does_ everyone get there without all the Muggles noticing?" I asked.

"It's been a massive organisational problem," sighed Mr Dawson. "The trouble is, about a hundred thousand wizards turn up to huge Quidditch matches like this one, and of course we just haven't got a magical sight big enough to accommodate them all. There are places Muggles can't penetrate, but imagine trying to pack a hundred thousand wizards into Brickabon Alley or the Sub House. So we've had to find a nice deserted moor, and set up as many anti-Muggle precautions as possible. The whole Ministry's been working on this for months. Firstly, of course, we have to stagger the arrivals. People with cheaper tickets arrive two weeks beforehand. A limited number use Muggle transport, but we can't have too many clogging up their buses and trains - remember, wizards are coming from all over the world. Some Apparate, of course, but we have to set up safe points for them to appear well away from Muggles. I believe there's a handy wood they're using as the Apparition point. For those who don't want to Apparate, or can't, we use Portkeys. They're objects that are used to transport wizards from one spot to another at a prearranged time. You can do large groups at a time if you need to. There have been two hundred Portkeys placed at strategic points around Britain, and the nearest one to us is at the top of the hill ahead of us, and that's where we're headed."

Mr Dawson pointed ahead of us, where the trees started to become thinner and a large black bumpy mound rose.

"What sort of objects are Portkeys?" I asked curiously.

"Well, they can be anything," said Mr Dawson. "Unobtrusive things, obviously, so Muggles don't go picking them up and playing with them ... stuff they'll just think is litter ..."

We trudged along the dark, dark path through the wood, the silence only broken by our footsteps. The sky lightened very slowly as we made our way towards the hill, it's inky blackness diluting to deepest blue. My hands and feet were freezing. Mr Dawson kept checking his watch.

We didn't have breath to spare for talking as we began to climb the hill, stumbling occasionally on hidden tree roots, slipping in hidden rabbit holes, slipping on thick black tuffets of grass. Each breath I took felt sharp in my chest, and my legs were starting to seize up when at last my feet found level ground.

"Whew," Mr Dawson panted, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Well, we've made a good time - we've got ten minutes ..."

Chris came over the crest of the hill last, clutching a stitch in his side.

"Now we just need the Portkey," said Mr Dawson, squinting around at the ground. "It won't be big ... come on ..."

We spread out, searching. We had only been at it for a couple of minutes, however, when a shout rent the still air.

"Over here, Matt! Over here, son, we've got it!"

Two tall figures were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop.

"Alesha!" said Mr Dawson, smiling as he strode over to the woman who had shouted. The rest of us followed.

Mr Dawson was shaking hands with a rosy-cheeked woman with shoulder-length, oak-brown hair, who was holding a very worn Frisbee in her other hand.

"This is Alesha Diggs, everyone," said Mr Dawson. "Works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know her daughter, Georgia?"

Georgia Diggs was an extremely beautiful girl of around seventeen. She was Captain and Seeker of Badger-Stripes house Quidditch team at Dragon Mort.

"Hi," said Georgia, looking around at us.

Everyone said "Hi" back except Tanya and Geri, who merely nodded at her. They had never quite forgiven Georgia for beating our team, Lion-Heart, in the first match in my third year.

"Long walk, Matt?" Georgia's mother asked.

"Not too bad," said Mr Dawson. "We live on the other side of the wood there. You?"

"Had to get up at two, didn't we, Georgie? I tell you, I'll be glad when she's got her Appartition test. Still ... not complaining ... biggest Quidditch Friendly yet, this one. Wouldn't miss it for a sackful of Galleons - and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy ..." Alesha Diggs peered good-naturedly around at the Dawson clan, the two Fangs, Chris, Ben, Dave and me. "All yours, Matt?"

"Oh no, the two girls at the back are my nieces and the dark brunettes are my biological children," said Mr Dawson, pointing them out. "The light haired brunette is my adopted son, Chris. Ben and Dave here are my foster sons - and Kiara Pride-Lander, well, she's a friend of - "

"Merlin's beard," said Alesha Diggs, her eyes widening. "Kiara? Kiara _Pride-Lander_?"

"Er - yeah," I said.

I was used to people looking at me curiously by this point in my life. I was used to the way their eyes moved at once to the scar on my forehead, but it always made me feel uncomfortable.

"Georgie's talked about you, of course," said Alesha Diggs. "Told us all about playing you last year ... I said to her, I said - Georgie, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will ... _you beat Kiara Pride-Lander_!"

I couldn't think of any reply to this, so I remained silent. Tanya and Geri both scowled again. Georgia looked slightly embarrassed.

"Kiara fell off her broom, Mum," she muttered. "I told you ... it was an accident ..."

"Yes, but _you_ didn't fall off your broom, did you?" roared Alesha genially, gripping her daughter's shoulder tightly. "Always modest, our Georgie, always the lady ... but the best woman won, I'm sure Kiara'd say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off her broom, one stays on, you don't need to be a genius to tell which one's the better flyer!"

"Must be nearly time," said Mr Dawson quickly, pulling out his watch again. "Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Alesha?"

"No, the Lovedreams have been there for a week already, and the Falcons couldn't get tickets," said Mrs Diggs. "There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?"

"Not that I know of," said Mr Dawson. "Yes, it's a minute off ... we'd better get ready ..."

He looked round at me. "You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do - "

With difficulty, owing to the bulky backpacks, the sixteen of us crowded around the worn Frisbee held out by Alesha Diggs.

We all stood there, in a tight circle, as a chilly breeze swept over the hilltop. Nobody spoke. It suddenly occurred to me how odd this would look if a Muggle were to approach ... sixteen people, a grown man and a woman, clutching this Frisbee in the semi-darkness, waiting ...

"Three ..." muttered Mr Dawson, one eye still on his watch, "two ... one ..."

It happened immediately: I felt as though a hook just behind my navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forwards. My feet left the ground; I felt Sian and Chrissie on either side of me, their shoulders banging into mine; we were all speeding forwards in a how of wind and whirling colour; my forefinger was stuck to the Frisbee as though it were pulling me magnetically onwards, and then -

I slammed into the ground; Chrissie staggered into me and I fell over; the Portkey hit the ground near my head with a soft thud.

I looked up. Mr Dawson, Mrs Diggs and Georgia were still standing, though they looked very windswept; the rest of us were on the ground.

"Seven past five from Forest Hill," said a voice.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 **Baxter and Clutch**

 **KIARA**

I disentangled myself from Chrissie and got to my feet. We had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of misty moor. In front of us were a pair of tired and grumpy-looking witches, one of whom held a large gold watch, and the other held a thick role of parchment and a quill. Both were dressed as Muggles, though very inexpertly; the woman with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes; her colleague, a skirt and cardigan.

"Morning, Babs," said Mr Dawson, picking up the Frisbee and handing it to the skirted witch, who threw it into a large box of Portkeys beside her; I saw an old newspaper, and empty drinks can and a punctured football.

"Hello there, Matthew," said the woman called Babs wearily. "Not on duty, eh? It's all right for some ... we've been here all night ... you'd better get out of the way, we've got a big party coming in from the Brown Forest at fifteen. Hang on, I'll find your campsite ... Dawson ... Dawson ..." She consulted her parchment list. "About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site manageress is called Mrs Simm. Diggs ... seconds field ... ask for Mrs Pawn."

"Thanks, Babs," said Mr Dawson, and he beckoned us to follow him.

We set off across the deserted moor, unable to make out much through the mist. After about twenty minutes, a small stone cottage next to a gate swam into view. Beyond it I could just make out the ghostly shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up the gentle slope of a large field towards a dark wood on the horizon. We said goodbye to the Diggs, and approached the cottage door.

A woman stood in the doorway, looking out at the tents. I knew at a glance that this was the only real Muggle for several acres. When she heard our footsteps, she turned her head to look at us.

"Morning," said Mr Dawson brightly.

"Morning," said the Muggle.

"Would you be Mrs Simm?"

"Aye," said Mrs Simm, consulting to a list tacked to the door. "You've got a space just by the wood there. Just the one night?"

"That's it," said Mr Dawson.

"You'll be paying now, then?" said Mrs Simm.

"Ah - right - certainly," said Mr Dawson. He retreated a short distance from the cottage and beckoned me towards him. "Help me, Kiara. I'm not up with Muggle money, not like my kids are, you see," he muttered, as he pulled a roll of Muggle money from his pocket and started to peel the notes apart. "This one's a - a - a ten? Ah, yes, I see the little number on it now ... so this is a five?"

"A twenty," I corrected in an undertone, uncomfortably aware of Mrs Simm trying to catch every word.

"Ah, yes, so it is ... I don't know, these little bits of paper ..."

"You foreign?" said Mrs Simm, as Mr Dawson gave her the correct notes.

"Foreign?" repeated Mr Dawson, puzzled.

"You're not the first one who's had trouble with money," said Mrs Simm, scrutinising Mr Dawson closely. "I had two trying to pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago."

"Did you really?" said Mr Dawson nervously.

Mrs Simm rummaged around in a tin for some change.

"Never been this crowded," she said suddenly, looking out over the misty field again. "Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up ..."

"Is that right?" said Mr Dawson, his hand held out for his change, but Mrs Simm didn't give it to him.

"Aye," she said thorughtfully. "People from all over. Loads of foreigners. And not just foreigners. Weirdos, you know? There's a lass walking round in a skirt and a cardigan."

"Shouldn't she?" said Mr Dawson nervously.

"It's like some sort of ... I dunno ... like some sort of rally," said Mrs Simm. "They all seem to know each other. Like a big party."

At that moment, a witch in a beach dress appeared out of thin air next to Mrs Simm's front door.

 _"Obliviate!"_ she said sharply, pointing her wand at Mrs Simm.

Instantly, Mrs Simm's eyes slid out of focus, her brows unknitted and a look of dreamy unconcern fell over her face. I recognised the symptoms as those of one who had just had her memory modified.

"A map of the campsite for you," said Mrs Simm placidly to Mr Dawson. "And your change."

"Thanks very much," said Mr Dawson.

The witch in the beach dress accompanied us towards the gate to the campsite. She looked exhausted; there were deep purple shadows under her eyes. Once out of earshot of Mrs Simm, she muttered to Mr Dawson, "Been having a lot of trouble with her. Needs a memory Charm ten times a day to keep her happy. And Lynn Baxter's not helping. Trotting around, talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of her voice, not a worry about anti-Muggle security. Jessh, I'll be glad when this is over. See you later, Matt."

She disappeared.

"I thought Miss Baxter was head of Magical Games and Sports?" said Chris, looking surprised. "She should know better than to talk about Bludgers at the top of her voice, shouldn't she?"

"She should," said Mr Dawson, smiling, as he led us through the gate into the campsite, "but Lynn's always been a bit ... well ... lax about security. You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic Head of the Sports Department, though she played Quidditch for England herself, you know. And she was the best Beater Lancashire ever had."

We trudged up the misty field between long rows of tents. Most looked almost ordinary; their owners had clearly tried to make them as Muggle-like as possible, but had slipped up by adding chimneys, or bell-pulls, or weather vanes. However, here and there was a tent so obviously magical that I was hardly surprised that Mrs Simms was suspicious. Halfway up the field stood one extravagant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tethered to the entrance. A little further on we passed a tent that had three floors and several turrets; and a short way beyond that was a tent which had a front garden attached, complete with birdbath, sundial and fountain.

"Always the same," said Mr Dawson, smiling, "we can't resist showing off when we get together. Ah, here we are. Look, this is us."

We had reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field, and there was an empty space, with a small sign hammered into the ground that read "Doorson".

"Couldn't have a better spot!" said Mr Dawson happily. "The pitch is just on the other side of the wood there; we're as close as we could be." He hoisted his backpack from his shoulders. "Right," he said excitedly, "no magic allowed, strictly speaking, not when we're out in these numbers on Muggle land. We'll be putting these tents up by hand! Shouldn't be too difficult ... Muggles do it all the time ... here, Kiara, where do you reckon we should start?"

I had never been camping before in my life; my grandmothers had never taken me, always preferring the comforts of home to the great outdoors. It was a good thing Sian was with us, for she had bought a book a couple of days before this event, which was a self-help guide to putting up a tent; so she, myself and Mr Dawson worked out where most of the poles and pegs should go - with reference to the book, of course - and though Mr Dawson was more of a hindrance than a help, because he got thoroughly over-excited when it came to using the mallet, we finally managed to erect a pair of shabby, three-man tents.

The three of us stood back to admire our handiwork. Nobody looking at these tents would've guessed they belonged to wizards, I thought, but as there was so many of us and Sam, Kat and Perdy would be joining us soon - we would be a party of eighteen. I turned to Sian, who smiled at my surprise as she said to me, "Don't worry, Kiara. They may look small on the outside, but on the inside they're much bigger and comfortable."

"Are you sure about that?" I asked her, quite sceptical at this point.

"Positive," Sian replied, as she turned to her father, who had dropped onto his hands and knees and entered the first tent. "What do you think, Dad?"

"Well, we'll be a bit cramped," he called, "but I think we'll all squeeze in. Come and have a look."

I bent down under the tent flap, and felt my jaw drop when I looked around. I had wlaked into what looked like an old-fashioned three-roomed flat, complete with bathroom and kitchen. Oddly enough, it was furnished in exactly the same sort of style as Mr Figgs; there were crocheted covers on the mismatched chairs, and a strong smell of cats hung in the air. This tent was the biggest of the three, so this was for Sian, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel, Merida and I.

"Well, it's not for long," said Mr Dawson, mopping his brow on the back of his hand and peering in as the three bunk beds that stood in each of the bedrooms. "I borrowed this from Wiggins at the office. Doesn't camp much anymore, poor woman. She's got lumbago."

He picked up the dusty kettle and peered inside it. "We'll need water ..."

"There's a tap marked on this map the Muggle gave us," said Chrissie, who had followed me inside the tent, and seemed far less impressed by its extraordinary inner proportions. "It's on the other side of the field."

"Well, why don't you, Kiara, Sian and Chris go and get us some water then - " Mr Dawson handed us the kettle and some saucepans, " - and the rest of us will get some wood for a fire."

"But we've got an oven," said Chris, who had just entered and had been given a saucepan by Sian, "why can't we just - ?"

"Anti-Muggle security, Christopher!" sighed Sian. "Besides, when Muggles camp, they cook on fires outdoors, like we've seen on TV. Ain't that right, Dad?"

"That's right," he said, nodding at his eldest child in appreciation.

After a quick tour of the boys' and the other girls' tent, which were both slightly smaller than the first girls' tent, though neither had the smell of cats, Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I set off across the campsite with the kettle and saucepans.

With the mist clearing and the light of the newly risen sun working in our favour, we saw the city of tents that stretched in every direction. We made our way slowly through the rows, staring eagerly around. It was only just dawning on me how many witches and wizards there must be in the world; I had never given much thought about other countries until that moment (after all, it's called the "wizarding world" for a reason).

Our fellow campers were starting to wake up. First to stir were the families with small children; I had never seen witches and wizards this young before this moment. A tiny girl, no older than two, was crouched outside a large pyramid-shaped tent, holding a wand and poking happily at a snail in the grass, which was swelling slowly to the size of a salami. As we drew level with her, her father came hurrying out of the tent.

"How many times, Keira? You _don't_ \- _touch_ - _Mummy's_ \- _wand_ \- yeuch!

He had trodden on the giant snail, which burst. His scolding carried after us on the still air, mingling with the little girl's yells - "You bust snail! You bust snail!"

A short way further on, we saw two little wizards, barley older than Keira, who were riding toy broomsticks witch rose only high enough for the boys' toes to skim the dewy grass. A Ministry witch had already spotted them; as she hurried past Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I, she muttered distractedly, "In broad daylight! Parents having a lie-in, I suppose - "

Here and there, adult witches and wizards were emerging from their tents and were starting to cook breakfast. Some, with furtive looks around them, conjured fires with their wands; others were striking matches with dubious looks on their faces, as though sure it couldn't work. As we passed three African wizards who were sat in serious conversation, all of them wearing long white robes and roasting what looked like a rabbit on a bright purple fire, they stopped as they saw me, stood up and bowed. At the time, I thought this was strange behaviour - remember, I didn't know then that I was a Princess - but I politely curtsied to them and walked on. When I turned my head back round to look at them after we had walked a little further on, they were glancing at me and talking very excitedly about me. A group of middle-aged African-American witches sat gossiping happily beneath a spangled banner that stretched between their tents which read: The African-American Witches Institute. I caught snatches of conversation in strange languages from the inside of tents we passed, and even though none of us understood a single word, the tone of every single voice sounded excited.

"Er - is it my eyes, or has everything gone green?" said Chrissie.

It wasn't just Chrissie's eyes. We had walked into a patch of tents that were all covered with a thick growth of shamrocks, so that it looked as though small, oddly shaped hillocks had sprouted out of the earth. Grinning faces could be seen under those which had their flaps open. Then, from behind us, we heard our names.

"Kiara! Chris! Sian! Chrissie!"

It was Zara Finn, our fellow Lion-Heart fourth-year. She was sitting outside her own shamrock-covered tent, with a sandy-haired man who had to be her father, and her best friend, Dean Wright, also a Lion-Heart.

"Like the decorations?" said Zara, grinning, when Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I had gone over to say hello. "The Ministry's not too happy."

"Ah, why shouldn't we show our colours?" said Mr Finn. "you should see what the South Africans have over _their_ tents. You'll be supporting Ireland, of course?" he added, eyeing Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I beadily.

When we assured him that we were indeed supporting Ireland, we set off again, though, as Chris said, "Like we'd say anything else surrounded by that lot."

"I wonder what the South Africans have got dangling over their tents?" said Sian.

"Let's go and have a look," I said, pointing to a large patch of tents upfield, where the South African flag fluttered in the breeze.

The tents there had not been bedecked with plant life, but each and every one of them had the same poster attached to it, a poster of a very surly face with heavy black eyebrows and a scar that ran down over his left eyebrow and cheek, but missed his eyelid. The picture moved, of course, but all it did was blink and scowl.

"Outsider," said Sian quietly.

"Who?" I said, confused.

"Outsider!" said Sian. " _The_ Kovu Outsider, the South African Seeker! My goodness, Kiara, even I thought that, seeing as you like Quidditch so much, that you of all people would know that! I mean, I don't follow Quidditch much, but even I know who he is!"

"He looks really grumpy," I said, looking around at the many Outsiders that were blinking and scowling at us.

" _"Really Grumpy"_?" Chrissie raised her eyes to the heavens. "Who cares what he looks like? He's unbelievable. He's really young, too. Only just eighteen or something. He's a _genius_. You just wait until tonight, you'll see."

There was already a small queue for the tap in the corner of the field. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I joined it, right behind a pair of witches who were having a heated argument. One of them was a very old witch who wore a long nightshirt. the other was clearly a Ministry witch; she held out a pair of jeans and was almost crying with exasperation.

"Just put them on, Adella, my good friend. You can't walk around like that, the Muggle at the gate's already getting suspicious - "

"I bought this in a Muggle shop," said the old witch stubbornly. "Muggles wear them."

"Muggle _men_ wear them, Adella, not the women, they wear _these_ ," said the Ministry witch, and she brandished the jeans.

"I'm not putting them on," said old Adella in indignation. "I like a healthy breeze around my private parts."

Chris was overcome with such a strong fit of giggles at this point that he had to duck out of the queue, and only returned when Adella had collected her water and moved away again.

After we collected our water, we made our way back through the campsite, but we moved a lot more slowly because of the weight of the water. Here and there we saw more familiar faces: other Dragon Mort students and their families, such as Olivia Cane, the old Lion-Heart captain of my house Quidditch team, who had just left Dragon Mort (that year), who dragged me over to her parents' tent to introduce me, and told me excitedly that she had just been assigned to the Puddlemere United reserve team. Next, we were hailed by Emily Mack, a Badger-Stripes fourth-year, and a little further on we saw Khan Chan, a very handsome boy who played Seeker on the Raven-Wings team. He waved and smiled at me, which made me slop quite a lot of water down my front as I waved back, and both these things - spotting Khan and slopping water down my front - made me blush. More to stop Chrissie smirking and Chris, who was for some reason scowling at the sky, I hurriedly pointed out a large group of teenagers who I had never seen before.

"Who d'you reckon they are?" I said. "They don't go to Dragon Mort, do they?"

"'Spect they go to some foreign school," said Chrissie. "I know there are others, never met anyone who went to one, though. Sam had a pen-friend at school who lived in Australia ... this was years and years ago ... and she wanted to go on an exchange trip, but Aunt Pam couldn't afford it. Her pen-friend got all offended when she said she wasn't going and sent her a cursed ring. It left the skin on her left hand flaky and the dead skin fell off."

I laughed, but didn't voice the amazement I felt at hearing about other wizarding schools. I suppose, seeing as I saw so many representatives of so many nationalities in the campsite, that I had been really naïve to never realise that Dragon Mort wasn't the only one. I glanced at Chris and Sian, both of whom looked utterly unsurprised by the information. No doubt Crighton had told Sian, and she passed the information over to Chris, Chrissie and the rest of her siblings.

"You've been ages," said Tanya, when we finally got back to the Dawsons' tents.

"Met a few people," said Chris, setting the water down. "You not got that fire started yet?"

"Uncle Matt's having fun with the matches," said Geri.

Mr Dawson was having no success at all in lighting the fire, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Splintered matches littered the ground around him, but he looked as though he was having the time of his life.

"Ooops!" he said, as he managed to light a match, and promptly dropped it in surprise.

"Give them here, Dad," said Sian kindly, taking the box from him and showing him how to do it properly.

At last, we got the fire lit, though it was at least another hour before it was hot enough to cook anything on. there was plenty to watch while we waited, however. Our tent seemed to be pitched right alongside a kind of thoroughfare to the pitch, and Ministry members kept hurrying up and down it, greeting Mr Dawson cordially as they passed. Mr Dawson kept up a running commentary for my benefit, seeing as his own children - including Tanya and Geri - knew too much about the Ministry to be greatly interested.

"That was Cinders Mocks, head of the Goblin Liaison Office ... here comes Gillian Winders, she's with the Committee for Experimental Charms, she's had those whiskers for a while now ... Hello, Abbie ... Abbigail Appease, she's an Obliviator - a member of the Accidental Magical Reversal Squad, you know ... and that's Dread and Bombs ... they're Unspeakables ..."

"They're what?"

"From the Department of Mysteries, top-secret, no idea what they get up to ..."

At last, the fire was ready, and we had just started cooking eggs and sausages when Kat, Sam and Perdy strolled out of the woods towards us.

"Just Apparated, Uncle Matt!" said Perdy loudly. "Ah, excellent, lunch!"

We were halfway through our plates of sausages and eggs when Mr Dawson jumped to his feet, waving and grinning at a woman who strode towards us. "Aha!" he said. "Just the woman! Lynn!"

Lynn Baxter was easily the most noticeable person I had seen so far that day, and that included old Adella in her nightshirt. She wore long white Quidditch robes with a great red rose splashed across them. She had the look of a willowy woman gone to seed; the robes were stretched tightly across a large belly, which she surely had not had in the days when she had played Quidditch for England. Her nose was squashed (probably broken by a stray Bludger, I thought), but her round blue eyes, long blonde hair and rosy complexion made her look like an overgrown schoolgirl.

"Ahoy there!" Baxter called happily. She walked as though she had springs attached to the balls of her feet, and was plainly in a state of wild excitement.

"Matt, old man," she puffed, as she reached the campfire, "what a day, eh, what a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming ... and hardly a hiccough in the arrangements ... not much for me to do!"

Behind her, a group of Ministry witches rushed past, pointing at the distant evidence of some sort of a magical fire that sent violet sparks twenty feet into the air.

Perdy hurried forwards with her hand outstretched. Apparently her disapproval of the way Lynn Baxter ran her department did not prevent her from wanting to make a good impression.

"Ah, yes," said Mr Dawson, grinning, "this is one of my nieces, Perdy, she's just started out at the Ministry - my other nieces, Sam, Kat, Geri - no, sorry, _that's_ Geri - Tanya and my children, starting with my eldest, Sian - I know, before you say anything she looks a hell of a lot like her mother, Susan; she's heard that a lot herself and is getting quite bored of it - and my other children, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, and Jack, my adopted son, Chris, my two foster sons, Ben and Dave - and Chris, Sian and Chrissie's friend, Kiara Pride-Lander."

Baxter did the smallest of double-takes when she heard my name, and her eyes performed the familiar flick upwards to the scar on my forehead.

"Everyone," Mr Dawson continued, "this is Lynn Baxter, you know who she is, and it's thanks to her that we've got such good tickets - "

Baxter beamed and waved her hand, as if to say that it had been nothing.

"Fancy a flutter on the match, Matt?" she said eagerly, jingling what seemed to be a large amount of gold in the pockets of her white robes. "I've already got Rochelle Points betting me South Africa will score first - I offered her nice odds, considering Ireland's front three are the strongest I've seen in a long time - and little Agnes Lite has put up half shares on her snake farm on a week-long match."

"Oh ... go on then," said Mr Dawson. "Let's see ... ten Galleons on Ireland to win?"

"Ten Galleons?" said Baxter, nodding her head and writing Mr Dawson's bet in a small book. "All right, then ... any other takers?"

"They're a bit young to be gambling," said Mr Dawson. "Susan and Pam wouldn't like - "

"We'll bet fifty-seven Galleons, fifty Sickles and five Knuts," said Geri, as Tanya quickly pooled all their money, "that Ireland win - but Kovu Outsider gets the snitch. Oh, and we'll throw in a fake quill."

"You don't want to go showing Miss Baxter rubbish like that," Perdy hissed, but Baxter didn't seem to think the quill was rubbish at all; on the contrary, her girlish face shone with excitement as she took it from Geri, and when the quill gave a loud hiss and turned into a rubber snake, Baxter cackled with laughter.

"Excellent! I haven't seen one that convincing in years! I'd pay five Galleons for that!"

Perdy froze in an attitude of stunned disapproval.

"Girls," said Mr Dawson under his breath, "I don't want you betting ... that's all your savings ... your mother and aunt - "

"Don't be a spoilsport, Matt!" boomed Lynn Baxter, rattling her pockets excitedly. "They're old enough to know what they want! You reckon Ireland will win but Outsider will get the Snitch? Not a chance, girls, not a chance ... I'll give you excellent odds on that one ... we'll add five Galleons for the funny quill then, shall we ..."

Mr Dawson looked on hopelessly as Lynn Baxter whipped out a notebook and quill and began jotting down the twins' names.

"Cheers," said Tanya, as she took the slip of parchment Baxter handed her and tucked it into the front left pocket of her jeans.

Baxter turned most cheerfully back to Mr Dawson. "Couldn't make us a brew, I suppose? I'm keeping an eye out for Bea Clutch. My South African opposite number's making difficulties and I can't understand a word she's saying. Bea'll be able to sort it all out. She speaks about a hundred and fifty languages.

"Mrs Clutch?" said Perdy, suddenly abandoning her look of poker-stiff disapproval and positively writhed with excitement. "She speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll ..."

"Anyone can speak Troll," said Geri dismissively, "all you have to do is point and grunt."

Perdy threw Geri an extremely nasty look, and stoked the fire vigorously to bring the kettle back to the boil.

"Any news of Bernard Jenkins yet, Lynn?" Mr Dawson asked, as Baxter settled herself down on the grass beside us all.

"Not a dickybird," said Baxter comfortably. "But he'll turn up. Poor old Bernard ... memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. He'll wander back into the office come time in October, thinking it's still July."

"You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for him?" Mr Dawson suggested tentatively, as Perdy handed Baxter her tea.

"Bea Clutch keeps saying that," said Baxter, her round eyes widening innocently, "but we really can't spare anyone at the moment. Oh - talk of the devil! Bea!"

A woman had just Apparated at our fireside, and she could not have made more of a contrast with Lynn Baxter, sprawled on the grass in her old Lancashire robes. Bea Clutch was a stiff, upright, elderly woman, who was dressed in an impeccably crisp trouser suit and had a white blouse to go with it. Her long grey hair was tied back in a high bun on top of her head, with not a hair out of place. Her shoes were very highly polished. I could see at once why Perdy idolised her. Perdy was a great believer in rigidly following rules, and Mrs Clutch had complied with the rule about Muggle dressing so thoroughly that she could have passed as a business woman; I doubted even Aunt Mavuto would have spotted her for what she really was.

"Pull up a bit of grass, Bea?" said Lynn brightly, patting the ground beside her.

"No, thank you, Lynn," said Clutch, and there was a bite of impatience in her voice. "I've been looking for you everywhere. The South Africans are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box."

"Oh, is that what they're after?" said Baxter. "I thought the woman was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent."

"Mrs Clutch!" said Perdy breathlessly, sinking into a kind of half-curtsey, which made her look like a hunchback. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Oh," said Mrs Clutch, looking over at Perdy in mild surprise. "Yes - thank you, Fans."

Tanya and Geri choked into their own cups. Perdy, very pink around the ears, busied herself with the kettle.

"Oh, and I've been wanting a word with you, too, Matthew," said Mrs Clutch, her sharp eyes falling upon Mr Dawson. "Harry Potter's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your searching on any Death Eater sightings of late."

Mr Dawson heaved a great sigh. "I sent him an owl about that last week. If I've told him once I've told him a hundred times; if myself - or any other members of the Auror Department, for that matter - have any information on Death Eater whereabouts, we'll inform him when we _do_ find the evidence, but will he listen?"

"I doubt it," said Mrs Clutch, accepting a cup from Perdy. "He's desperate to find some, since it's gone quiet. Says he's tired of being shut up in his office all day."

"So, been keeping busy, Bea?" said Baxter breezily.

"Fairly," said Mrs Clutch drily. "Organising Portkeys across five continents is no mean feat, Lynn."

"I expect you'll both be glad when this is over?" said Mr Dawson.

Lynn Baxter looked shocked. "Glad! Don't know when I've had more fun ... still, it's not as though we haven't got anything to look forward to, eh, Bea? Eh? Plenty left to organise, eh?"

Mrs Clutch raised her eyebrows at Baxter. "We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details - "

"Oh, details!" said Baxter, waving the word away like a cloud of midges. "They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you anything these kids'll know soon enough anyway. I mean, it's all happening at Dragon Mort - "

"Lynn, we need to meet the South Africans, you know," said Mrs Clutch sharply, cutting Baxter's remarks short. "Thank you for the tea, Fans."

She pushed her undrunk tea back at Perdy and waited for Lynn to rise; Baxter struggled to her feet again, swigging down the last of her tea, the gold in her pockets chinking merrily.

"See you all later!" she said. "You'll be up in the Top Box with me - I'm commentating!" She waved, Bea Clutch nodded curtly, and both of them Disapparated.

"What's happening at Dragon Mort, Dad?" said Chris at once. "What were they talking about?"

"You'll find out soon enough," said Mr Dawson, smiling.

"It's classified information, until such time as the Ministry decides to release it," said Perdy stiffly. "Mrs Clutch was quite right not to disclose it."

"Oh, shut up, Fans," said Geri.

A sense of excitement rose like a palpable cloud over the campsite as the afternoon wore on. By dusk, the still summer air itself seemed to be quivering with anticipation, and as darkness spread like a curtain over the thousands of waiting wizards, the vestiges of pretence disappeared; the Ministry seemed to have bowed to the inevitable, and they stopped fighting the signs of blatant magic that broke out everywhere.

Salesmen were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays and pushing carts full of extraordinary merchandise. There were luminous rosettes - green for Ireland, red for South Africa - which were squealing the names of the players, pointed green hats bedecked with dancing shamrocks, South African scarves adorned with lions that really roared, flags from both countries which played their national anthems as they waved; there were tiny models of Firecrackers that really flew, and collectable figures of famous players, which strolled across the palm of your hand, preening themselves.

"Sian, Chris and I have been saving our pocket money all summer for this," Chrissie told me, as the four of us strolled through the salesmen, buying souvenir. Sian purchased herself a dancing shamrock hat, Chris a South African scarf, and Chrissie bought a small figure of the South African Seeker, Kovu Outsider. The miniature Outsider walked backwards and forwards over Chrissie's hand, frowning at the green colours above him.

"Wow, look at these!" I said, hurrying over to a cart piled high with what looked like brass binoculars, except that they were covered in all sorts of weird knobs and dials.

"Omnioculars," said the saleswizard eagerly. "You can replay action ... slow everything down ... and they flash up a play-by-play breakdown if you need it. Bargain - ten Galleons each."

"Four pairs," I said firmly to the wizard.

"Kiara, you don't have to do that," said Chrissie, shaking her head.

"I insist," I said to her stubbornly. "Besides, how many times are we going to get to treat ourselves like this in our lives?"

"Fair enough," said Chrissie, grinning.

"Oooh, thanks, Kiara," said Sian. "And I'll get us some programmes, look - "

Our moneybags considerably lighter, we made our way back to the tents. Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Sam and Kat were all sporting green rosettes, and Joe, Jack, Ben and Dave had bought South African scarves and flags and Mr Dawson had an Irish flag. Tanya and Geri had no souvenirs as they had given Baxter all their gold.

And then a deep, booming gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and, at once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the pitch.

"It's time!" said Mr Dawson, who looked as excited as the rest of us. "Come on, let's go!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 **The Quidditch Friendly**

 **KIARA**

Clutching our purchases, with Mr Dawson in the lead, we all hurried into the wood, following the lantern-lit trail. We heard the sounds of thousands of people moving around us, shouts of laughter, snatches of singing. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious; I couldn't stop grinning. We walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and joking loudly, until at last we emerged on the other side, and found ourselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium. Though I saw only a fraction of the immense gold walls that surrounded the pitch, I could tell that ten cathedrals would have fitted comfortably inside it.

"Seats a hundred thousand," said Mr Dawson, spotting the awestruck look on my face. "Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year. Muggle-Repelling Charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have got anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again ... Bless them," he added fondly, leading the way towards the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards.

"Prime seats!" said the Ministry witch at the entrance, once she had checked our tickets. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, Matt, and as high as you can go."

The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. We clambered upwards with the rest of the crowd, which slowly flittered away through the doors into the stands to our left and right. Our - Mr Dawson's - party kept climbing, and at last we reached the top of the staircase, and found ourselves in a small box, at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden goalposts. About twenty people and gilt chairs stood in two rows here, and Ben, Dave and I filled the front two seats with the Dawsons and Fangs, and I looked down upon a scene, the likes of which I never could have imagined.

A hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking places in their seats which rose in levels around the long oval pitch. Everything was suffused with a mysterious golden light that seemed to come from the stadium itself. The pitch looked as smooth as velvet from our lofty position. At either end of the pitch stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high; right opposite us, almost at my eye level, was a gigantic blackboard. Gold writing kept flashing across it as though an invisible giant's hand was scrawling upon it and then wiped it off again; watching it, I saw that it was flashing advertisements across the pitch.

 _The Bluebottle: A Broom for All the Family - safe, reliable, and with in-built Anti-Burglar Buzzer ... Mrs Skewer's All-Purpose Magical Mess-Remover: No Pain, No Stain! ... Gladrags Wizardwear - London, Paris, Hogsmede, Dragsmede ..._

I tore my eyes away from the sign and looked over my shoulder to see who else we were sharing the box with. So far it was empty, except for a tiny creature sitting in the second from last seat at the end of the row behind us. The creature, whose legs were long and it's feet just touched the floor; it had a grubby sack over it with holes made for its arms, legs and head, and it had its face hidden in its hands. Yet those long, bat-like ears were oddly familiar to me ...

 _"Dokey?"_ I said incredulously.

The tiny creature looked up and parted its fingers, revealing enormous hazel eyes and a nose the exact shape and size of a cherry tomato. It wasn't Dokey - it was, however, unmistakeably a house-elf, as my friend Dokey had been. For those of you who don't remember, I had set Dokey free from her old owners, the Malty family, in my second year.

"Did miss just call me Dokey?" squeaked the elf curiously from between its fingers. Its voice was lower than Dokey's had been, but only just, and I suspected - though it was hard to tell with a house-elf - that this one might just be male. Chris, Sian and Chrissie spun around in their seats to look. Though they had heard a lot about Dokey from me, they had never actually met her. Even Mr Dawson looked around in interest.

"Sorry," I told the elf, "I just thought you were someone I knew."

"But I knows Dokey too, miss!" croaked the elf. He was shielding his face, as though blinded by light, though the Top Box was not brightly lit. "My name is Blinky, miss - and you, miss - " his hazel eyes rounded to the size of side plates as they rested upon my scar, "you is surely Kiara Pride-Lander!"

"Yeah, I am," I said.

"But Dokey talks of you all the time, miss!" he said, lowering his hands very slightly and looking awestruck.

"How is she?" I said. "How's freedom treating her?"

"Ah, miss," said Blinky, shaking his head, "ah, miss, meaning no disrespect, miss, but I is not sure you did Dokey a favour, miss, when you is setting her free."

"Why?" I said taken aback. "What's wrong with her?"

"Freedom's going to Dokey's head, miss," said Blinky sadly. "Ideas above her station, miss. Can't get another position, miss."

"Why not?" I said.

Blinky lowered his voice by half an octave and whispered, _"She is wanting paying for her work, miss."_

"Paying?" I said blankly. "Well - why shouldn't she be paid?"

Blinky looked quite horrified at the idea, and closed his fingers slightly so that his face was half-hidden again.

"House-elves is not paid, miss!" he said in a muffled squeak. "No, no, no, I says to Dokey, I says go find yourself a nice family and settle down, Dokey. She is getting up to all sorts of high jinks, miss, what is unbecoming to a house-elf. You goes racketing arounf like this, Dokey, I says, and next thing I hear you's up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures like some common gremlin."

"Well, it's about time she had a bit of fun," I said.

"House-elves is not supposed to have fun, Kiara Pride-Lander," said Blinky firmly from behind his hands. "House-elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, Kiara Pride-Lander - " he glanced towards the edge of the box and gulped, " - but my mistress sends me to the Top Box and I comes, miss."

"Why are you up here if she knows you don't like heights?" I said, frowning.

"Mistress - mistress wants me to save her a seat, Kiara Pride-Lander, she is very busy," said Blinky, tilting his head towards the empty seat next to him. "Blinky wishes he was back in mistress' tent, Kiara Pride-Lander, but Blinky does what he is told, Blinky is a good house-elf."

He gave the edge of the box another frightened look, and hid his eyes completely again. I turned back to the others.

"So that's a house-elf?" Chrissie muttered. "Weird things, aren't they?"

"Dokey was weirder," I said fervently.

Chris pulled out his Omnioculars and started testing them, staring down into the crowd on the other side of the stadium.

"Wild!" he said, twiddling the replay button on the side. "I can make that old bird down there bite her nail again ... and again ... and again ..."

Sian, meanwhile, skimmed through her velvet-covered, tasselled programme.

" "A display from the team mascots will precede the match"," she read aloud.

"Oh, that's always worth watching," said Mr Dawson. "National teams bring creatures from their native land, you know, to put on a bit of a show."

The box filled gradually around us over the next half hour. Mr Dawson kept shaking hands with people who were obviously very important wizards. Perdy jumped to her feet so often that she looked as though she was trying to sit on a hedgehog. When Cornelia Sweets, the Minister for Magic herself arrived, Perdy curtseyed so low that her glasses fell off and shattered. Highly embarrassed, she repaired them with her wand, and thereafter remained in her seat, throwing jealous looks at me, whom Cornelia Sweets had greeted like an old friend. We had met before, and Sweets shook my hand in a motherly fashion, asked me how I was and introduced me to the wizards on either side of her.

"Kiara Pride-Lander, you know," she told the South African Minister, who wore splendid robes of red velvet trimmed with gold, and didn't seem to understand a word of English. " _Kiara Pride-Lander_ ... oh, come on now, you know who she is ... the girl who survived She-You-Know ... you do know who she is ..."

The South African witch suddenly spotted my scar and started gabbling loudly and excitedly, pointing at it.

"Knew we'd get there in the end," said Sweets wearily to me. "I'm no great shake-out with languages, I need Bea Clutch with this sort of thing. Ah, I see her house-elf's saving her a seat ... good job too, these South African blighters have been trying to cage all the best places ... ah, and here's Narissa!"

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I turned quickly. Edging along the second row to four empty seats right behind Mr Dawson were none other than Dokey the house-elf's old owners - Narissa Malty, her daughter, Dani, niece, Keziah and a man I presumed had to be Keziah's uncle and Dani's father.

Dani Malty and Keziah Rae-Bradley had both been my enemies (and I theirs) ever since our very first day at Dragon Mort. Dani was pale with a pointed face and white-blonde hair, whereas Keziah had a more roundish face and full-blonde hair - anyhoo, Dani greatly resembled her mother. Her father was a blonde, too, and was tall and slim. He would have been nice looking if he hadn't been wearing a look that suggested there was a nasty smell under his nose.

"Ah, Sweets," said Mrs Malty, holding out her hand as she reached the Minister for Magic. "How are you? I don't think you've met my husband, Lucian? My daughter, Dani? Or my niece, Keziah?"

"How do you do? How do you do? How do you do?" said Sweets, smiling and curtseying to Mr Malty. "And allow me to introduce you to Mrs Dovansk - Obvanska - Mrs - well, she's the South African Minister for Magic, and she can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else - I daresay you know Matthew Dawson?"

It was a very tense moment. Mr Dawson and Mrs Malty looked at each other and I vividly recalled the last time they had come face to face; it had been in Flourish and Blotts bookshop, and they had had a fight. Mrs Malty's cold grey eyes swept over Mr Dawson, and then up and down the row.

"Good Lord, Matthew," she said softly. "How many Dark wizards did you have to lock up to get seats in the Top Box? Surely all of the Death Eaters have been locked up by now, haven't they?"

Sweets, who wasn't listening, said, "Narissa had just given a very generous contribution to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Matt. She's here as my special guest."

"How - how nice," said Mr Dawson, with a very strained smile.

Mrs Malty's eyes returned to Sian (and I admire her for what she did even now), who looked Mrs Malty in the eye, and brought back one side of her mouth in a snarl and put it down again. I knew exactly what made Mrs Malty's lip curl. The Malty's prided themselves on being Half-Wits; in other words, they considered anyone with a bright brain, like Sian, second-class. However, under the gaze of the Minister of Magic, Mrs Malty didn't dare say anything. She nodded sneeringly to Mr Dawson, and continued down the line to her seats. Dani and Keziah both shot Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I contemptuous looks, before they settled themselves down between Mr and Mrs Malty.

"Evil toerags," Chrissie muttered, as she, Chris, Sian and I turned to face the pitch again. Next moment, Lynn Baxter charged into the box.

"Everyone ready?" she said, her round face gleaming like a great, excited Edam. "Minister - ready to go?"

"Ready when you are, Lynn," said Sweets comfortably.

Lynn whipped out her wand, directed it at her own throat and said _"Sonorus!"_ and then spoke over the roar of sound that filled the packed stadium; her voice echoed over us, booming into every inch of the stadium. Ladies and gentlemen ... welcome! Welcome to this Quidditch Friendly between Ireland and South Africa!"

The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard opposite us was wiped clear of its last message ( _All Flavour Bean's - a Risk With Every Mouthful!_ ) and showed IRELAND: ZERO, SOUTH AFRICA: ZERO.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce ... the South African Team Mascots!"

"I wonder what they've brought?" said Mr Dawson, leaning forwards in his seat. "Aaah!" He suddenly stared more fixedly at the scene on the pitch below. _"Coltees!"_

"What are Colt - ?"

But a hundred Coltess glided out onto the pitch, and my question was answered for me. Coltees were men ... the most handsome men I had ever seen (sorry, Chris) ... except that they weren't ... they couldn't be ... human. This puzzled me for a moment, while I tried to guess exactly what they were; what made their skin shine slightly dimmer than the sun so as not to harm the eyes, or their black-silver hair fan out behind them without wind ... but then the music started, and I stopped worrying about them not being human - in fact, I stopped worrying about anything at all, for that matter.

The Coltees started to dance, and I remember that my mind had gone completely and blissfully blank. All that mattered in the world was that I kept watching the Coltees, because if they stopped dancing, I thought that terrible things would happen ...

And as the Coltees started to dance faster and faster, wild, half-formed thoughts started chasing each other through my mind. I wanted to do something very impressive at that moment, foolish as it sounds, but I was too under their spell at that moment to care whether what I was doing at that moment was foolish or not. Anyhoo, jumping from the stadium seemed a good idea ... but would it be good enough?

"Kiara, what _are_ you doing?" said Chris' voice from a long way off.

The music stopped. I blinked rapidly a few times, trying to clear my head. I was standing up, and one of my legs was resting on the wall of the box. Next to me, Chrissie was frozen in an attitude that looked as though she was about to dive from a spring board, and Sian had her arms held aloft, and, judging from the way her eyes sparkled and how open her mouth was, lokked like she was about to sing opera.

Angry yells filled the stadium. The crowd didn't want the Coltees to go, and I yelled with them; I was, of course, supporting South Africa, so I then wondered why I had a large green shamrock pinned to my chest. Sian, meanwhile, was shaking her head in disgust of her acting, which was made more obvious by her face, which became very red, which was out of embarrassment and shame; for after all, we all remember how Sian feels about beauty (remember Giselle Gold?). Chrissie, on the other hand, was shredding the shamrocks on her hat. Mr Dawson, smiling slightly, leant over to Chrissie and tugged the hat out of her hands.

"You'll be wanting that," he said, "once Ireland have had their say."

"Huh?" said Chrissie, who stared open-mouthed at the Coltees, who had lined up along one side of the pitch.

Chris merely rolled his eyes. He reached up and pulled me back into my seat. _"Honestly!"_ he said.

"And now," roared Lynn Baxter's voice, "kindly put your wands in the air ... for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

Next moment, what seemed to be a great green and gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling towards the goalposts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the pitch, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd "oooohed" and "aaaaahed", as though they were at a firework display. Then the rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Something like falling rain seemed to be falling from it -

"Excellent!" yelled Chrissie, as the shamrock soared over our heads, and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off our heads and seats. Squinting up at the shamrocks, I realised that it was actually composed of tiny little bearded men with red waistcoats, and each of them carried a miniature lamp of gold or green.

"Leprechauns!" said Mr Dawson, over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom were still fighting and rummaging around under their chairs to retrieve the gold.

"There you go!" Chrissie yelled happily, stuffing a fistful of gold coins into my hands. "For the Omnioculars! Now you've got to buy me a Christmas present, ha!"

The great shamrock then dissolved, and the leprechauns drifted down onto the pitch on the side opposite to the Coltees, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome - the South African National Quidditch Team! I give you - Danjuma!"

A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast that it was blurred, shot out onto the pitch from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the South African supporters.

"Iweala!"

A second scarlet-robed figure zoomed out.

"Yar'Adua! Kone! Ohakim! Okiro! Aaaaaaand - _Outsider_!"

"That's him, that's him!" Chris and Chrissie yelled simultaneously, following Outsider with their Omnioculars. I quickly focused my own on him.

Kovu Outsider was tall, muscular and dark skinned, with a large nose and lips, and had a thick mane of black hair which was tied back. He had a large quiff which hung low over his forehead, so low that it almost covered his eyes, which made me wonder how he could see. He had thick black eyebrows. He looked like a lion crouched on a branch from the way he positioned himself on his broom. It was hard for me to believe that he was only eighteen.

"And now, please greet - the Irish National Quidditch Team!" yelled Baxter. "Presenting - Connell! Roche! Teagan! Mullen! Macguire! Dempsey! Aaaaaaand - _Lane_!"

Seven green blurs swept onto the pitch: I spun a small dial on the side of my Omnioculars, and slowed the players down enough to read the word "Firecracker" on each of their brooms, and see their names, embroidered in silver, upon their backs.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Nephthys Bennu!"

A small, slight and skinny witch, whose face was framed by a bob of black hair, who wore robes of pure gold to match the stadium, strode out onto the pitch. A silver whistle protruded from her lips, and she carried a large wooden crate under one arm, and her broomstick under the other. I spun the dial on my Omnioculars back to normal, watching closely as Bennu mounted her broomstick and kicked the crate open - four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers and (I saw it for the briefest moment, before it sped out of sight) the miniscule, winged, Golden Snitch. With a sharp blast of her whistle, Bennu shot into the air after the balls.

"Theeeeeeeey're OFF!" screamed Baxter. "And it's Mullen! Teagan! Dempsey! Danjuma! Back to Mullen! Tagan! Kone! Dempsey!"

It was Quidditch as I had never seen it played before. I pressed my Omnioculars so hard to my eyes, that I was pretty sure that if I pushed them any further, they would have been stuck to my face. The speed of the players was unbelievable - the Chasers threw the Quaffle to each other so fast that Baxter only had time to say their names. I spun the "slow" dial on the right of my Omnioculars again, pressed the "play-by-play" button on the top and was immediately watching in slow motion, while glittering purple letters flashed across the lenses, and the noise of the crowd pounded against my eardrums.

 _"Hawkshead Attacking Formation"_ I read, as I watched the three Irish Chasers zoom closely together, Teagan in the centre, slightly ahead of Mullen and Dempsey, bearing down upon the South Africans. _"Porskoff Play"_ flashed up next, as Teagan made as though to dart upwards with the Quaffle, drawing away the South African Chaser Iweala, and dropping the Quaffle to Mullen. One of the South African Beaters, Okiro, swung hard at a passing Bludger with her small club, knocking itinto Mullen's path; Mullen ducked to avoid the Bludger and dropped the Quaffle; and Kone, soaring beneath, caught it -

"TEAGAN SCORES!" roared Baxter, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. "Ten-zero to Ireland!"

"What?" I yelled, looking wildly around through my Omnioculars. "But Kone's got the Quaffle!"

"Kiara, if you're not going to watch at normal speed, you're going to miss things!" shouted Sian, who was dancing up and down, waving her arms in the air while Teagan did a lap of honour of the pitch. I looked quickly over the top of my Omnioculars, and saw that the leprechauns watching from the sidelines had all risen into the air again, and formed the great, glittering shamrock. Across the pitch, the Coltees watched them sulkily.

Furious with myself, I spun the speed dial back to normal as play resumed.

I knew enough about Quidditch to see that the Irish Chasers were superb. They worked as a seamless team, appearing to read each other's minds by the way they positioned themselves, and the rosette on my chest kept squeaking their names: "Teagan - Mullen - Macguire!" And within ten minutes, Ireland had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero, and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the green-clad supporters.

The match became still faster, but more brutal. Ohakim and Okiro, the South African Beaters, were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Kone managed to break through their ranks, dodge the Keeper, Roche, and score South Africa's first goal.

"Fingers in your ears, girls!" Sian bellowed, as the Coltees started to dance in celebration. I screwed my eyes up, too; I wanted to keep my mind on the game. After a few seconds, I chanced a glance at the pitch. The Coltees had stopped dancing, and South Africa were again in possession of the Quaffle.

"Danjuma! Kone! Danjuma! Iweala - oh, I say!" roared Baxter.

One hundred thousand witches and wizards gasped as the two Seekers, Outsider and Lane, plummeted through the centre of the Chasers, so fast that it looked as though they had just jumped from aeroplanes without parachutes. I followed their decent through my Omnioculars, squinting to see where the Snitch was -

"They're going to crash!" screamed Sian next to Chrissie.

She was half-right - at the very last second, Kovu Outsider pulled out of the dive and spiralled off. Lane, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that was heard throughout the stadium. A huge groan rose from the Irish seats.

"Fool!" moaned Mr Dawson. "Outside was feinting!"

"It's time out!" yelled Baxter's voice. "As trained medi-wizards hurry onto the pitch to examine Allisson Lane!"

"She'll be OK, she only got ploughed!" Kat said reassuringly to Merida, who was hanging over the side of the box, looking horror-struck. "Which is what Outsider was going for, of course ..."

I hastily pressed the "replay" and "play-by-play" buttons on my Omnioculars, twiddled the speed dial, and put them back up to my eyes.

I watched as Outsider and Lane dived again in slow motion. _"Wronski Feint - dangerous Seeker diversion"_ read the shining purple letters across my lenses. I saw Outsider's face contorted with concentration as he pulled out of the dive just in time, while Lane was flattened, and I understood - Outsider hadn't seen the Snitch at all, he just made Lane copy him. I had never seen anyone fly like that before (well, up until that point in my life, anyway); Outsider hardly looked as though he was using a broomstick at all; he moved so easily through the air that it looked as though he was unsupported and weightless. I turned my Omnioculars back to normal, and focused them on Outsider. He circled high above Lane, who was being removed by medi-wizards with cups of potion. I kept a close look on Outsider's face, as I watched his dark eyes darting all over the ground a hundred feet below. He was using the time while Lane was being revived to look for the Snitch without interference.

Lane got to her feet at last, to loud cheers from the green-clad supporters, mounted her Firecracker and kicked back off into the air. Her revival seemed to give Ireland new heart. When Bennu blew her whistle again, the Chasers moved into action with a skill unrivalled by anything I had seen so far.

After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals. They were now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game was starting to get dirtier.

As Mullen shot towards the goalposts yet again, clutching the Quaffle tightly under his arm, the South African Keeper, Yar'Adua, flew out to meet him. Whatever happened was over so quickly that I didn't catch it, but a scream of rage from the Irish crowd, and Bennu's long, shrill whistle blast, told me that it had been a foul.

"And Bennu takes the South African Keeper to task for cobbing - excessive use of elbows!" Baxter informed the roaring spectators. "And - yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!"

The leprechauns, who had risen angrily into the air like a swarm of glittering hornets when Mullen had been fouled, now darted together to form the words "HA HA HA!". The Coltees on the other side of the pitch leapt to their feet, tossed their hair angrily and started to dance again.

As one, Sian, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel, Merida, the five Fang girls and I stuffed our fingers in our ears, but Chris, who hadn't bothered, began tugging on my arm. I turned to look at him, and he pulled my fingers impatiently out of my ears.

"Look at the referee!" he said, trying hard not to laugh.

I looked down at the pitch. Nephthys Bennu had landed right in front of the dancing Coltees, and was acting very oddly indeed. She kept trying to flick her short hair back and was smiling flirtatiously.

"Now, we can't have that!" said Lynn Baxter, though she sounded highly amused. "Somebody slap the referee!"

A medi-witch tore across the pitch, her fingers in her ears, and kicked Bennu hard in the shins. Bennu seemed to come to herself; as I watched through my Omnioculars again, I saw that she looked exceptionally embarrassed, and was shouting at the Coltees, who stopped dancing and looked mutinous.

"And unless I'm much mistaken, Bennu is actually trying to send off the South African Team Mascots!" said Baxter's voice. "Now _there's_ something we haven't seen before ... oh, this could turn nasty ..."

It did: the South African Beaters, Ohakim and Okiro, had landed either side of Bennu and began arguing furiously with her, gesticulating towards the leprechauns, who gleefully formed the words "HEE HEE HEE!". Bennu was not impressed by the South African's arguments, however; she was jabbing her fingers into the air, clearly telling them to fly again, and when they refused, she gave two short blasts on her whistle.

"Two penalties for Ireland!" shouted Baxter, and the South African crowd howled with anger. "And Ohakim and Okiro had better get back on those brooms ... yes ... there they go ... and Teagan takes the Quaffle ..."

Play had now reached a level of ferocity beyond anything we had yet seen. The Beaters on both sides acted without mercy. Okahim and Okiro in particular seemed not to care whether their clubs made contact with Bludger or human, as they swung more violently through the air. Danjuma shot straight at Dempsey, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking him off his broom.

"Foul!" roared the Irish supporters as one, all standing up in a great wave of green.

"Foul!" echoed Lynn Baxter's magically magnified voice. "Danjuma skins Dempsey - deliberately flying to collide there - and it's got to be another penalty - yes, there's the whistle!"

The leprechauns rose into the air again and this time they formed a giant hand, which made a very rude hand gesture across the pitch towards the Coltees. At this, the Coltees lost control. They launched themselves across the pitch, and began throwing what seemed to be handfuls of fiery dirt at the leprechauns. As I watched through my Omnioculars, I saw that they didn't look remotely beautiful anymore. On the contrary, their faces elongated into long, rounded horse heads, and their arms and legs grew and their hands and feet transformed into heavy, rounded hooves. Even long, sleek tails emerged from the rear ends of their bodies, as their manes on their heads grew out, too. As they transformed, their hooves, which seemed to burn the ground, kept sending fireball of dirt at the leprechauns, who were swerving this way and that to avoid -

"And that, everyone," yelled Sian over the tumult of the crowd below, "is why you should never go for looks alone! Which some of us would do well to remember - isn't that right, Rickers?"Sian finished as she turned to Chris, who was determinedly focussing on the crowd below.

While this was going on, Ministry wizards were flooding onto the pitch to separate the Coltees and the leprechauns, but with little success; meanwhile, the pitched battle below was nothing compared to the one above. I turned this way and that, staring through my Omnioculars as the Quaffle changed hands with the speed of a bullet -

"Kone - Danjuma - Teagan - Mullen - Iweala - Mullen again - Mullen - MULLEN SCORES!"

But the cheers of the Irish supporters were barely heard over the shrieks of the Coltees, the blasts that were issuing from the Ministry members' wands, and the furious roars of the South Africans. The game recommenced immediately; now Kone had the Quaffle, now Danjuma -

The Irish Beater Macguire swung heavily at a passing Bludger, and hit it as hard as possible towards Outsider, who did not duck quickly enough. It hit him hard in the face.

There was a deafening groan from the crowd; Outsider's nose looked broken, there was blood everywhere, but Nephthys Bennu didn't blow her whistle. She had become distracted, and I didn't blame her; one of the Coltees had kicked up dust from the ground, which hit Bennu right in the eyes. I couldn't hear it, but I imagined her screaming in pain, as she covered her eyes and fell to the floor in pain (the ground turned to ash because of the Coltees' hooves).

I wanted someone to realise that Outsider was injured; even though I was supporting Ireland as well (there's nothing wrong with supporting two teams people), Outsider was the most exciting player on the pitch. Chris and Chrissie obviously felt the same.

"Time out! Time out!" Chrissie yelled.

"I know, Chrissie!" Chris shouted back in agreement. "I mean, look at him, he can't keep playing like that - "

 _"Look at Lane!"_ I yelled.

The Irish Seeker had suddenly gone into a dive, and I was quite sure that this was no Wronski Feint; this was the real thing ...

"She's seen the Snitch!" I shouted. "She's seen the Snitch! Look at her go!"

Half the crowd seemed to have realised what was happening; the Irish supporters rose in a great wave of green, screaming their Seeker on ... but Outsider was close on her tail. How he saw what was going on, I had no idea; there were great flecks of blood flying through the air behind him, but he was drawing level with Lane, as the pair of them lurched towards the ground again -

"They're going to crash!" Sian shrieked.

"They're not!" roared Chris and Chrissie simultaneously.

"Lane is!" I yelled.

And I was right - for the second time, Lane hit the ground with tremendous force, and was immediately stampeded by a herd of angry Coltees.

"The Snitch, where's the Snitch?" bellowed Sian along the row.

"He's got it - Outsider's got it - it's all over!" I shouted.

Outsider, his red robes shining with blood from his nose, was rising gently into the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold flashing in his hand.

The scoreboard was flashing SOUTH AFRICA: ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY, IRELAND: ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY across the crowd, who didn't seem to have recognised what had just happened. Then, slowly, as though a great jumbo jet was revving up, the rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight.

"IRELAND WIN!" shouted Baxter, who, like the Irish, seemed to have been taken aback by the sudden end to the match. "OUTSIDER GETS THE SNITCH - BUT IRELAND WIN - good Lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

"What did he catch the Snitch for?" Chrissie bellowed, even as she jumped up and down, applauding with her hands over her head. "He ended it when Ireland were a hundred and sixty points ahead, the idiot!"

"He knew they were never going to catch up," I shouted over all the noise, also applauding, "the Irish Chasers were too good ... he wanted to end it on his terms, that's all ..."

"Well, you have to admire his determination to catch the Snitch, even with his nose bleeding as it is," Chris yelled.

"And he was brave for doing so," Sian added, leaning forward to watch Outsider land, and the swarm of medi-wizards blasting a path through the battling leprechauns and Coltees to get to him. "He looks a terrible mess ..."

I put my Omnioculars to my eyes again. I found it hard to see what was happening below, because the leprechauns were zooming delightfully over the pitch, but I just made out Outsider, surrounded by medi-wizards. He looked surlier than ever, and refused to let them mop him up. His teammates were around him, shaking their heads and looking dejected; a short way away, the Irish players were dancing gleefully in a shower of gold descending from their mascots. Flags waved all over the stadium, the Irish national anthem blared from all sides; the Coltees shrunk back into their usual handsome selves, looking dispirited and forlorn.

"Well, we fought bravely," said a gloomy voice behind me. I looked around; it was the South African Minister for Magic who spoke.

"You can speak English!" said Sweets, sounding outraged. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"

"Well, it was very funny," said the South African Minister, shrugging.

"And so," roared Baxter's voice once more, "Ireland have won this match; and there are a few more matches to go before we both teams play for their chances to be part of the Quidditch World Cup 2008!"

And as Baxter went on to say who both teams would be playing against next, I just kept thinking about the match. The thing is, though, at the time , it went so fast, that all I really remember of it now (without the aid of a Pensieve) was seeing a host of blurred images travelling through my mind at top speed, until the moment when Outsider caught the Snitch.

The crowds were already starting to leave, as Baxter finished her announcements. Once she was done, she pointed her wand at her throat and muttered, _"Quietus"_. And then, just as she was about to say something to Mr Dawson, she noticed that Tanya and Geri had scrambled over to her with broad grins on their faces with their hands outstretched, as Baxter said, "Ah, yes, how much do I owe you?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

 **The Death Trail**

 **KIARA**

"Don't tell your mother - or your aunt - that you've been gambling," Mr Dawson implored Tanya and Geri, as we made our way slowly down the purple-carpeted stairs.

"Don't worry, Uncle Matt," said Tanya gleefully, "we've got big plans for this money, we don't want it confiscated."

Mr Dawson looked for a moment as though he was going to ask what these big plans were, but seemed to decide, upon reflection, that he didn't want to know.

He was made even more unsettled by Sian's words: "Yeah, Dad, you don't need to worry about them. Me telling Ma, on the other hand, _that's_ what you need to worry about." He froze for a moment and his eyes shot up, as Sian threw him a little wink over her shoulder, before she moved on, a small, amused smile on her face. Mr Dawson just shook his head, annoyance clearly evident.

We were soon caught up in the crowds flooding out of the stadium and back to their campsites. Raucous singing was borne towards us on the night air as we retraced our steps along the lantern-lit path, and leprechauns kept shooting over our heads, cackling and waving their lanterns. When we had finally reached the tents, none of us felt like sleeping at all and, given the level of noise around us, Mr Dawson agreed that we could all have one last cup of cocoa before turning in. We were soon arguing enjoyably about the match; Mr Dawson got into a disagreement with Kat, and it was only when Merida fell asleep right at the table and spilled hot chocolate all over the floor that Mr Dawson called a halt to the verbal replays, and insisted that we all went to bed. Chris, Joe, Jack, Ben, Dave and Mr Dawson went to the boys' tent, as Sam, Kat, Perdy, Tanya and Geri went to the other girls' tent, and when they were gone, Sian, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel, Merida and I changed into our pyjamas and clambered into our bunks. From the other side of the campsite, we still heard much singing, and the odd, echoing bang.

"Oh, I am glad I'm not on duty," muttered Mr Dawson, as he left our tent once more, after he had come in to check on us. "I wouldn't fancy having to go and tell the Irish they've got to stop celebrating."

It was a truly remarkable night, but as we all know, all good things must come to an end sooner or later, and sometimes they don't always end the way we want them to ...

As I recall, Chrissie and I shared a bunk, and as I was lying on the top bunk above Chrissie, I remember that I was staring at the canvas ceiling of the tent, watching the glow of an occasional leprechaun lantern flying overhead, and picturing again some of Outsider's most spectacular moves. I was itching to try out the Wronski Feint ... somehow Olivia Cane had never managed to convey with all her wriggling diagrams what that move was supposed to look like ... I remember that I saw myself in robes that had my name on the back, and I imagined the sensation of hearing a hundred-thousand-strong crowd roar, as Lynn Baxter's voice echoed throughout the stadium, "I give you ... Pride-Lander!"

To this day I still don't know whether I had actually dropped off to sleep or not - my fantasies of flying might well have slipped into actual dreams - all I knew was that, quite suddenly, Mr Dawson was back and he was shouting frantically.

"Get up! Chrissie - Kiara - come on, now, get up, this is urgent!"

I sat up quickly and the top of my head hit the canvas.

"'S matter?" I mumbled in my post-sleep state.

Dimly, I could tell that something was wrong, for the noises in the campsite had changed. The singing had stopped. I heard screams, and the sound of people running.

I slipped down from the bunk and reached for my clothes, but Mr Dawson, who was fully dressed, said, "No time, Kiara - just grab a jacket and get outside - quickly!"

I did as I was told, and hurried out of the tent, with Sian and Chrissie at my heels.

By the light of the few fires that were still burning, I saw people running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field towards us, something that emitted odd flashes of light, and noises like gunfire. Loud jeering, roars of laughter and drunken yells drifted towards us; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene.

A crowd of witches, tightly packed and moving together with their wands pointing straight upwards, were marching slowly across the field. I squinted at them ... they didn't seem to have faces ... but then I realised that their heads were hooded and their faces were masked. High above them, floating along in mid-air, were four struggling figures that were being contorted into grotesque shapes. It was as though the masked witches on the ground were puppeteers, and the people above them were marionettes that were being operated by invisible strings that rose from the wands into the air. Two of the figures were very small.

More witches were joining the marching group, laughing and pointing up at the floating bodies. Tents crumpled and fell as the marching crowd swelled. Once or twice I saw one of the marchers blast a tent out of the way with her wand. Several caught fire. The screaming grew louder.

The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passed over a burning tent, and I recognised one of them - Mrs Pawn, the campsite manageress. The other three looked as though they were her husband and children. One of the marchers below flipped Mrs Pawn upside-down with her wand; her nightdress fell down to reveal voluminous drawers; she struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below her screeched and hooted with glee.

"That's sick," Chrissie muttered, watching the smallest Muggle child, who had begun to spin like a top, sixty feet above the ground, his head flopping from side to side. "That is really sick ..."

Tanya, Geri, Chris, Joe, Jack, Ben and Dave came hurrying towards us, pulling coats over their pyjamas, with Mr Dawson right behind them. At the same moment, Sam, Kat and Perdy emerged from the other girls' tent, fully dressed, with their sleeves rolled up and their wands out.

"We're going to help the Ministry," Mr Dawson shouted over all the noise, as he rolled up his own sleeves. "You lot - get into the woods and _stick together_! I'll come and get you when we've sorted this out!"

Sam, Kat and Perdy were already sprinting away towards the oncoming marchers; Mr Dawson touched Sian's cheek, waiting for her to look at him, before he kissed her head gently and squeezed her cheek softly, until he tore himself away reluctantly, for I saw him, just before he went after Sam, Kat and Perdy, slowly drop his hand from her face. Anyhoo, after this had transpired between Mr Dawson and his eldest child, he went after Sam, Kat and Perdy, as I've already stated. Ministry witches and wizards were dashing from every direction towards the source of trouble. The crowd beneath the Pawn family was coming ever closer.

"C'mon," said Tanya, as she grabbed Merida's hand and pulled her towards the wood, with the rest of us following close behind. We all looked back as we reached the trees. The crowd beneath the Pawn family was larger than ever; we saw the Ministry wizards trying to get through it to the hooded wizards in the centre, but they had great difficulty in doing so. It looked as though they were scared to perform any spell that might make the Pawn family fall.

The coloured lanterns that had lit the pitch to the stadium had been extinguished. Dark figures were blundering through the trees; children were crying; anxious shouts and panicked voices reverberated around us in the cold night air. I felt myself being pushed hither and thither by people whose faces I could not see. I then heard Chrissie yell in pain.

""What happened?" said Chris, as he, Sian and I stopped moving and looked back to try and see Chrissie, dark as it was.

"Chrissie?" Sian called anxiously, the protective, mother-side of her taking over. "Chrissie, where are you? Oh, this is stupid - _Lumos_!"

Chris repeated this spell, and the two of them pointed their wands across the path, and as the two narrow beams of light illuminated everything around us, we saw Chrissie lying sprawled on the ground.

"Tripped over a tree root," said Chrissie, as she got to her feet again.

"Well, with feet that size, I'd imagine it'd be hard not to trip over anything," said a drawling voice behind us, as a second voice cackled in agreement.

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I turned sharply. Dani Malty, and her cousin, Keziah Rae-Bradley, were stood alone near us, leaning against a tree, both looking utterly relaxed. Their arms were folded, and they seemed to have been watching the scene on the campsite through a gap in the trees - although I did notice something different about them. Dani looked like she wanted to be there and was enjoying the show, but with Rae-Bradley ... her lips were formed into a smile, but there was something in her eyes that made me think she was uncomfortable with what was going on around her. It almost seemed to me like she didn't want to be there ...

Anyhoo, Chrissie then told Malty and Rae-Bradley something that I was certain would never have been spoken in front of Mr Dawson and Crighton; and I was proven right, for as soon as she said it, Sian thwacked Chrissie on the arm, and warned her that if she wasn't careful with her tongue in the future, that she would make Chrissie wash her mouth out with soap (this image has remained with Chrissie to this day, just so you know). And Sian wasn't the only one who warned Chrissie about her tongue.

"Language, Dawson," said Malty, her pale eyes glittering. "Hadn't you better be hurrying along now? "You wouldn't like _her_ spotted, would you?"

She nodded at Sian, and at the same moment, a blast like a bomb sounded from the campsite, and a flash of green light momentarily lit the trees around us.

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Sian defiantly.

"Dawson, they're after _Bright-Brains_ , as well sa Muggle-borns and Muggles, you know," spoke up Rae-Bradley for the first time, in her usual soft and cheerful voice (which, now that I think about it, didn't sound that cheerful). "D'you want to be showing off your knickers in mid-air? Because if you do, hang around ... they're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh." As she said this, I saw her smile falter a little and she seemed to be apologising through her eyes.

"Sian's a witch, and a trustworthy one at that," I snarled.

"Have it your way, Pride-Lander," said Malty, grinning broadly, as Rae-Bradley looked on coolly (well, she tried to, anyway)."If you think they can't spot a Sackbrain, stay where you are."

"You watch your mouth!" shouted Chris. Everybody present knew that "Sackbrain" was a very offensive term for a witch or wizard with high intelligence.

"Never mind, you two," said Sian quickly, and she held out her arms to stop Chris and Chrissie, who took quick steps towards Malty and Rae-Bradley.

There came a bang from the other side of the trees that was louder than anything we had heard so far. Several people nearby screamed.

Malty chuckled softly. "Scare easily, don't they?" she said lazily. "I suppose your daddy told you all to hide, did he, Dawson? What's he up to - trying to rescue the Muggles?"

"Where're your parents?" I said, trying desperately to keep my temper under control. "Out there wearing the masks, are they?"

Malty and Rae-Bradley both turned their faces to me, still smiling, although one smiled more gleefully than the other. "Well, if they were, I wouldn't be likely to tell you, would I, Pride-Lander?"

"Oh, come on," said Sian, with a disgusted look at Malty and Rae-Bradley. "Let's go and find the others."

"Keep that long hair down, Dawson," said Rae-Bradley (somewhat kindly).

"Come on," Sian repeated, as she pushed, Chris, Chrissie and I in front of her up the path again, in order to get us moving.

"I'll bet you anything Malty's mum is one of the masked lot!" said Chrissie hotly.

"Well, with any luck, the Ministry will catch her!" said Sian fervently. "Oh, I don't believe this, where have the others got to?"

Tanya, Geri, Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Ben and Dave were nowhere to be seen, though the path was packed with plenty of other people, and all of them were looking nervously over their shoulders towards the commotion back at the campsite.

A huddle of teenagers in pyjamas were arguing vociferously a little along the path. When they saw Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I, a boy with thick, dark hair turned and said quickly, _"Ou est Monsieur Legrand? Nous l'avons perdue - "_

"Er - what?" said Chris.

"Oh ..." the boy who had spoken turned his back on him, and as we walked on we distinctly heard him say, "Dragon Mor'."

"Beauxbatons," muttered Sian.

"Huh?" I said brilliantly.

"They must go to Beauxbatons," said Sian. "You know ... Beauxbatons Academy of Magic ... I read about it in _Appraisal of Magical_ _Education in Europe_."

"Oh ... yeah ... right ..." I said.

"Tanya and Geri can't've gone too far," said Chrissie, holding his wand up again as Chrissie drew out her wand and lit it, just as Chris and Sian had done, and the three of them squinted up the path. I dug in the pockets of my jacket for my own wand - but it wasn't there. The only things I had with me at that point were my Omnioculars.

"Ah, no, I don't believe it ... I've lost my wand!"

"You're kidding?"

Chris, Sian and Chrissie raised their wands high enough to spread the narrow beams of light further on the ground; I looked all around me, but my wand was nowhere to be seen.

"Maybe it's back in the tent," said Chrissie.

"Maybe it fell out of your pocket when we were running?" Sian suggested anxiously.

"Maybe one of the others picked it up accidentally in all the kerfuffle," suggested Chris.

"Yeah," I said, "maybe."

I usually kept my wand with me at all times in the wizarding world, and finding myself without it in the midst of a scene like that one made me feel very vulnerable.

A rustling noise then made the four of us jump. Blinky the house-elf was fighting his way out of a clump of bushes nearby. He was moving in a most peculiar fashion, apparently with great difficulty; it was as though someone invisible was holding him back.

"There is bad wizards about!" he squeaked distractedly, as he leant forwards and laboured to keep running. "People high - high in the air! Blinky is getting out of the way!"

And he disappeared into the trees on the other side of the path, panting and squeaking as he fought the force that restrained him.

"What's up with him?" said Chrissie, who looked curiously after Blinky. "Why can't he run properly?"

"Because he didn't ask permission to hide," I said (which is what I naturally jumped to. There was a reason for it, but we'll get to that later). I thought of Dokey; every time she had tried to do something the Malty's wouldn't like, she had been forced to start beating herself up.

"You know, house-elves still get a very raw deal!" said Sian indignantly (she was, of course, referring to the work that Hermione Weasley's doing at the Ministry). "It's slavery, there's no other word for it! That Mrs Clutch made him go up to the top of the stadium, and he was terrified, and she's got him bewitched so he can't even run away when they start trampling tents! Why aren't there more people out there doing their best to help the poor creatures?"

"Well, the elves are happy, aren't they?" Chrissie said. "You heard old Blinky back at the match ... "House-elves is not supposed to have fun" ... that's what he likes, being bossed around ..."

"Well, I agree with you to an extent, Chrissie," Sian said. "If those house-elves are happy where they are, with or without pay, then that's fine. I'll leave them be. But those house-elves who are mistreated, who do not have a voice and need help to find a new placement, then those are the house-elves who need our help the most."

As Sian finished this fantastic little speech, another loud bang echoed from the edge of the wood.

"Let's just keep moving, shall we?" said Chris, and I saw him and Chrissie both glance edgily at Sian. Perhaps there was truth in what Malty and Rae-Bradley had said; perhaps Sian _was_ in more danger than we were. The four of us set off again, and I still searched my pockets, even though I knew my wand wasn't there.

We followed the dark path deeper into the wood, still keeping our eyes open for any signs of Tanya, Geri, Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Ben and Dave. We passed a group of fauns, who cackled over a sack of gold they had undoubtedly won betting on the match, and they seemed quite unperturbed by the trouble on the campsite. Further still along the path, we walked into a patch of golden light, and when we looked into the trees, we saw three tall and handsome Coltees standing in a clearing, surrounded by a gaggle of young witches, all of whom were talking very loudly.

"I pull down about a hundred sacks of Galleons a year," one of them shouted. "I'm a dragon killer for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures."

"No, you're not," said her friend, "you're a dish-washer at the Witching Service ... but I'm a Vampire Hunter, I've killed about ninety so far - "

I snorted with laughter at this, as Chrissie, whose face had gone oddly slack, yelled, "Did I tell you I've invented a broomstick that'll reach Venus?"

 _"Honestly!"_ said Sian, as she, Chris and I grabbed Chrissie firmly by the arms, wheeled her around and marched her away. By the time the sounds of the Coltees and their admirers had faded completely, we were in the very heart of the wood. We seemed to be alone, for everything seemed to be much quieter.

I looked around. "I reckon we can just wait here, you know. We'll hear anyone coming a mile off."

The words were hardly out of my mouth, when Lynn Baxter emerged from behind a tree right ahead of us.

Even by the feeble light of the thin wands, I saw that a great change had come over Baxter. She no longer looked buoyant and rosy-faced, and there was no spring in her step. She looked very white and strained.

"Who's that?" she said, blinking and trying to make out our faces. "What are you doing in here, all alone?"

We looked at each other, surprised.

"Well, there's a sort of riot going on," said Chris.

Baxter stared at him. "What?"

"On the campsite ... some people have got hold of a family of Muggles ..."

Baxter swore loudly. "Damn them!" she said, looking quite distracted, and without another word, she Disapparated with a small _pop_.

"Not exactly on top of things Miss Baxter, is she?" said Sian, frowning.

"She was a great Beater, though," said Chrissie, who led the way off the path into a small clearing, and sat down on a patch of grass at the foot of a tree. "Lancashire won the League three times in a row when she was with them."

She took her small figure of Outsider out of her pocket, set it down on the ground and watched it walk around for a while. Like the real Outsider (as I would discover later on), the model had a light, sturdy-footed step, and he also had a rather strong chest; just as impressive on the ground as he was in the air. I was listening out for noise on the campsite. Everything still seemed quiet; I couldn't help but wonder if the riot was over.

"I hope the others are OK," said Sian after a while. We knew that she was talking about her sibling in particular.

"They'll be fine," said Chrissie.

"Imagine if your dad catches Narissa Malty," I said, sitting down next to Chrissie and watched the small figure of Outsider strutting over the fallen leaves. "He always said he'd like to get something on her."

"That's wipe the smiles off of Dani and Keziah's faces, all right," said Chris.

"Mad, though, to do something like that when the whole Ministry of Magic's out here tonight!" said Sian. "I mean, how do they expect to get away with it? Do you think they've been drinking, or are they just - "

But she broke off abruptly and looked over her shoulder. Chris, Chrissie and I looked quickly around, too. It sounded as though someone was staggering towards our clearing as we waited, listening carefully to the sounds of the uneven steps behind the dark trees. But then the footsteps came to a sudden halt.

"Hello?" I called.

There was silence. I got to my feet and peered around the tree. It was too dark for me to see very far, but I sensed that somebody was stood just beyond my line of vision.

"Who's there?" I said.

And then, without warning, the silence was rent by a voice unlike any we had heard in the wood; and it uttered, not a panicked shout, but what sounded like a spell.

 _"DOODROETE!"_

And something vast, red and glittering erupted from the patch of darkness that my eyes had been struggling to penetrate: it flew up over the treetops and into the sky.

"What the - ?" Chrissie gasped, as she sprang to her feet again, gazing up at the thing that had just appeared.

For a split second, I thought that it was another leprechaun formation. Then I realised that it looked like a long, red, glittering snake, which curled at the head and tail of the thing, with other, small snakes emerging out of its body, both back and front, and top and bottom (a bit like wavy spines), that looked like it was completely composed of scarlet stars. As we watched, it rose higher and higher, blazing in a haze of red smoke, etched against the black sky like a new constellation. Suddenly, the wood all around us erupted with screams. I didn't understand why at the time, but the only possible explanation was the sudden appearance of the snake-thing, which had risen high enough to illuminate the entire wood, like some grisly, neon sign. I scanned the darkness for the person who had conjured the snake-thing, but I couldn't see anyone.

"Who's there?" I called again.

"Kiara, come on, _move_!" Sian had seized the back of my jacket, and was tugging me backwards.

"What's the matter?" I said, shocked to see her face so white and terrified.

"It's the Death Trail, Kiara!" Sian moaned, pulling me as hard as she could. "She-You-Know's sign!"

 _"Zira's - ?"_

"Kiara, _come on_!"

I turned - Chrissie had scooped up her miniature Outsider as Chris came to my side - the four of us started across the clearing - but before we had taken more than a few hurried steps, a series of popping noises announced the arrival of twenty wizards, who appeared from thin air, surrounding us.

I whirled around, and in a split second, I registered one fact: each one of those wizards had their wands out, and every one of them was pointed right at myself, Chris, Sian and Chrissie. Without pausing to think, I yelled, "DUCK!" I seized the other three and pulled them down onto the ground.

 _"STUPEFY!"_ roared twenty voices - there was a blinding series of flashes and I felt the hair on my head ripple as though a powerful wind had swept the clearing. Raising my head a fraction of an inch, I saw jets of fiery red light flying over us from the wizards' wands, crossing each other, bouncing off tree-trunks, rebounding in the darkness -

"Stop!" yelled a voice I recognised. "STOP! _Those are my son and daughters!_ "

My hair then stopped blowing about. I raised my head a little higher. The wizard in front of me had lowered his wand. I rolled over and saw Mr Dawson striding quickly towards us, looking terrified.

"Chris - Sian - " his voice sounded shaky, " - Chrissie - Kiara - are you all right?"

"We are now, Dad," said Sian in an even shakier tone, as her father helped her to her feet and they embraced, breathing sighs of relief as they did so.

"Out of the way, Matthew," said a cold, curt voice, which broke the warm embrace between Sian and Mr Dawson.

It was Mrs Clutch who had thus spoken. She and the other Ministry wizards closed in on us. I got to my feet to face them. Mrs Clutch's face was contorted with rage.

"Which of you did it?" she snapped, her sharp eyes darting between us. "Which of you conjured the Death Trail?"

"We didn't do that!" I said, gesturing at the snake-thing.

"We didn't do anything!" said Chris, who rubbed his elbow and was looking indignantly at his father. "What did you attack us for?"

Do not lie, sir!" said Mrs Clutch. Her wand was still pointed directly at Chrissie, and her eyes were popping - she looked slightly mad. "You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!"

"Beatrice," whispered a wizard in a long woollen dressing-gown, "they're kids, Beatrice, they'd never have been able to - "

"Where did the Trail come from, you four?" said Mr Dawson quickly.

"Over there," said Sian, trying to sound like her usual strong, composed self, as I heard a slight tremor in her voice as she said this. After she spoke, she pointed to the place where we had heard the voice, and continued, "There was someone behind the trees ... they shouted words - an incantation - "

"Oh, stood over there, did they?" said Mrs Clutch, who turned her popping eyes on Sian, disbelief etched all over her face. "Said an incantation, did they? You seem very well informed about how that Trail is summoned, missy - "

But none of the other Ministry wizards apart from Mrs Clutch seemed to think it likely that Chris, Sian, Chrissie or myself had conjured the snake-thing; on the contrary, at Sian's words, they raised all their wands again, and pointed them in the direction she had indicated, squinting through the dark trees.

"We're too late," said the wizard in the woollen dressing-gown, shaking his head. "They'll have Disapparated."

"I don't think so," said a witch with dark brown hair. It was Alesha Diggs, Georgia's mother. "Our Stunners went right through those trees ... there's a good chance we got them ..."

"Alesha, be careful!" said a few of the wizards warningly, as Mrs Diggs squared her shoulders, raised her head , marched across the clearing and disappeared into the darkness. Sian watched her vanish, with anxiety etched clearly in her eyes. Mr Dawson wrapped his arm around her.

A few seconds later, we heard Mrs Diggs shout.

"Yes! We got them! There's someone here! Unconscious! It's - but - oh my ..."

"You've got someone?" shouted Mrs Clutch, who sounded highly disbelieving. "Who? Who is it?"

We heard snapping twigs, the rustling of leaves, and then crunching footsteps as Mrs Diggs re-emerged from behind the trees. She carried a tiny, limp figure in her arms. I recognised the hand-towel at once. It was Blinky.

Mrs Clutch did not move or speak as Mrs Diggs deposited Mrs Clutch's elf on the ground at her feet. The other Ministry wizards all stared at Mrs Clutch. For a few seconds, Clutch remained transfixed, her eyes blazing in her white face as she stared down at Blinky. Then she appeared to come to life again.

"This - cannot - be," she said jerkily. "No - "

She moved quickly around Mrs Diggs and strode off towards the place where she had found Blinky.

"No point, Mrs Clutch," Mrs Diggs called after her. "There's no one else there."

But Mrs Clutch did not seem prepared to take her word for it. We heard her moving around, the rustling of leaves as she pushed the bushes aside, searching.

"Bit embarrassing," Mrs Diggs said grimly, looking down at Blinky's unconscious form. "Beatrice Clutch's house-elf ... I mean to say ..."

"Come off it, Alesha," said Mr Dawson quietly, "you don't seriously think it was the elf? The Death Trail's a wizard's sign. It requires a wand."

"Yeah," said Mrs Diggs, "and he _had_ a wand."

"What?" said Mr Dawson.

"Here, look." Mrs Diggs held up a wand and showed it to Mr Dawson. "Had it in his hand. So that's clause three of the Code of Wand Use broken for a start. _No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand._ "

Just then there was another _pop_ , and Lynn Baxter Apparated right next to Mr Dawson. Looking breathless and disoriented, she spun on the spot, goggling upwards at the scarlet red snake-thing.

"The Death Trail!" she panted, almost trampling Blinky as she turned enquiringly to her colleagues. "Who did it? Did you get them? Beatrice! What's going on?"

Mrs Clutch had returned empty-handed. Her face was still ghostly-white, and her hands and left eye was twitching.

"Where have you been, Beatrice?" said Baxter. "Why weren't you at the match? Your elf was saving you a seat, too - Gulping gargoyles!" Baxter had just noticed Blinky lying at her feet. "What happened to him?"

"I have been busy, Lynn," said Mrs Clutch, who still talked in the same jerky fashion and was barely moving her lips. "And my elf has been Stunned."

"Stunned? By you lot, you mean? But why - ?"

Comprehension suddenly dawned on Baxter's round, shiny face; she looked up at the snake-thing, down at Blinky and then up at Mrs Clutch.

 _"No!"_ she said. "Blinky? Conjure the Death Trail? He wouldn't know how! He'd need a wand for a start!"

"And he had one," said Mrs Diggs. "I found him holding one, Lynn. If it's all right with you, Mrs Clutch, I think we should hear what he's got to say for himself."

Clutch gave no sign that she had heard Mrs Diggs, but Mrs Diggs seemed to take her silence for assent. She raised her wand, pointed it at Blinky and said, _"Ennervate!"_

Blinky stirred feebly. His great brown eyes opened and he blinked several times in a bemused sort of way. Watched by the silent wizards surrounding him (myself and my friends included) as he raised himself shakily into a sitting position. He caught sight of Mrs Diggs' feet, and slowly, tremulously, he raised his eyes to stare up into her face; then, more slowly still, he looked up into the sky. I can still see how the floating snake-thing that was reflected twice in his enormous, terrified, glassy eyes. He gave a gasp, looked wildly around the crowded clearing and burst into terrified sobs.

"Elf!" said Mrs Diggs sternly. "Do you know who I am? I'm a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!"

Blinky began to rock backwards and forwards on the ground, his breath coming in sharp bursts. I was reminded forcibly of Dokey in her moments of terrified disobedience.

"As you see, elf, the Death Trail was conjured here a short while ago," said Mrs Diggs. "And you were discovered moments later, right beneath it! An explanation, with you please!"

"I - I - I is not doing it, ma'am!" Blinky gasped. "I is not knowing how, ma'am!"

"You were found with a wand in your hand!" barked Mrs Diggs, who brandished it in front of him. And as the wand caught the red light that filled the clearing from the snake-thing above, I recognised it.

"Hey - that's mine!" I said.

Everyone in the clearing looked at me.

"Excuse me?" said Mrs Diggs incredulously.

"That's my wand!" I said. "I dropped it!"

"You dropped it?" said Mrs Diggs in disbelief. "Is this a confession? You threw it aside after you conjured the Trail?"

"Alesha, think who you're talking to!" said Mr Dawson, very angrily. "Is _Kiara Pride-Lander_ likely to conjured the Death Trail?"

"Er - of course not," mumbled Mrs Diggs. "Sorry ... carried away ..."

"I didn't drop it there, anyway," I said, jerking my thumb towards the tree beneath the snake-thing. "I lost it right after we got into the wood."

"So," said Mrs Diggs, her eyes hardening as she turned to look at Blinky again, who was cowering at her feet. "You found this wand, eh, elf? And you picked it up and thought you'd have some fun with it, did you?"

"I is not doing magic with it, ma'am!" squealed Blinky, as tears streamed down the sides of his squashed and bulbous nose. "I is ... I is ... I is just picking it up, ma'am. I is not making the Death Trail, ma'am, I is not knowing how!"

"It wasn't him!" said Sian. Her hands shook slightly as she spoke in front of all the Ministry officials, but she held her head up high, determined to get her point across. "Blinky's got a squeaky, croaky voice (strange as it seems), and the voice we heard doing the incantation was more deeper!" She looked round at Chris, Chrissie and I, appealing for our support. "It didn't sound anything like Blinky, did it?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "It definitely didn't sound like an elf."

"Yeah, it was a human voice," said Chrissie.

"It sounded much firmer and confident when casting the incantation, too," Chris added.

"Well, we'll soon see," said Mrs Diggs, who looked unimpressed. "There's a simple way of discovering the last spell a wand performed, elf, did you know that?"

Blinky trembled and shook his head frantically, his ears flapping, as Mrs Diggs raised her own wand again and placed it tip to tip with mine.

 _"Prior Incantato!"_ roared Mrs Diggs.

I heard Sian gasp, horrified, as a gigantic serpentine-thing Trail emerged from the point where the two wands met, but it was a mere shadow of the scarlet snake high above us, which looked as though it was made of grey smoke: the ghost of its last spell.

 _"Deletrius!"_ Mrs Diggs shouted, and the smoky snake-thing vanished in a wisp of smoke.

"So," said Mrs Diggs, with a savage kind of triumph, looking down upon Blinky, who was still shaking convulsively.

"I is not doing it!" he squealed, his eyes rolling in terror. "I is not, I is not, I is not knowing how! I is a good elf, I isn't using wands, I isn't knowing how!"

 _"You've been caught red handed, elf!"_ Mrs Diggs roared. _"Caught with the guilty wand in your hand!"_

"Alesha," said Mr Dawson loudly, "think about it ... precious few wizards know how to do that spell ... where would he have learnt it?"

"Perhaps Alesha is suggesting," said Mrs Clutch, cold anger in every syllable, "that I routinely teach my servants to conjure the Death Trail!"

There was a deeply unpleasant surprise at this cold statement.

Alesha Diggs looked horrified. "Mrs Clutch ... not ... not at all ..."

"You have now come very close to accusing the two people in this clearing who are least likely to conjure that Trail!" barked Mrs Clutch. "Kiara Pride-Lander - and myself! I suppose you are familiar with the girl's story, Alesha?"

"Of course - everyone know - muttered Mrs Diggs, who looked highly discomfited.

"And I trust you remember the many proofs I have given, over a long career, that I despise and detest the Dark Arts and those who practice them?" Mrs Clutch shouted, her eyes bulging again.

"Mrs Clutch, I - I never suggested you had anything to do with it!" muttered Alesha Diggs, rosy cheeks steadily turning red.

"If you accuse my elf, you accuse me, Diggs!" shouted Mrs Clutch. "Where else would he have learnt to conjure it?"

"He - he might have picked it up anywhere - "

"Precisely, Alesha," said Mr Dawson. " _He might have picked it up anywhere_ ... Blinky?" he said kindly, turning to the elf, but he flinched as though Mr Dawson, too, was shouting at him. "Where exactly did you find the wand?"

Blinky twisted the hem of his hand-towel so violently that it frayed beneath his fingers.

"I-I is finding it ... finding it there, sir ..." he whispered, "there ... in the trees, sir ..."

"You see, Alesha?" said Mr Dawson. "Whoever conjured the Trail could have Disapparated right after they'd done it, leaving Kiara's wand behind. A clever thing to do, not using their own wand, which could have betrayed them. And Blink here had the misfortune to come across the wand moments later and picked it up."

"But then he would have been feet away from the real culprit!" said Mrs Diggs impatiently. "Elf? Did you see anyone!"

Blinky began to tremble worse than ever. His giant eyes flickered from Mrs Diggs to Lynn Baxter, and then on to Mrs Clutch.

Then he gulped and said, "I is seeing no one, ma'am ... no one ..."

"Alesha," said Mrs Clutch curtly, "I am fully aware that, in the ordinary course of events, you would want to take Blinky into your department for questioning. I ask you, however, to allow me to deal with him."

Mrs Diggs looked as though she didn't think much of this suggestion at all, but I remember that it was made perfectly clear to me that Mrs Clutch was such an important member of the Ministry that Mrs Diggs didn't dare say anything against Mrs Clutch.

"You may rest assured that he will be punished," Mrs Clutch added coldly.

"M-m-mistress ..." Blinky stammered, looking up at Mrs Clutch, his eyes brimming with tears. "M-m-mistress, p-p-please ..."

Mrs Clutch stared back, her face somehow sharpened, each line upon it more deeply etched. There was no pity in her gaze. "Blinky has behaved tonight in a manner that I would not have believed possible," she said slowly. "I told him to remain in the tent. I told him to stay there while I went to sort out the trouble. And I find that he has disobeyed me. _This means clothes._ "

"No!" shrieked Blinky, prostrating himself at Mrs Clutch's feet. "No, Mistress! Not clothes, not clothes!"

Of course, I already knew that the only way to set a house-elf free was to present it with proper garments. It was truly pitiful for me to see the way Blinky clutched at the hand-towel as he sobbed over Mrs Clutch's feet. If I could have done anything back then, I would have done anything in my power to make sure that Blinky stayed with Mrs Clutch, but of course, there was nothing to be done.

"But he was frightened!" Sian burst out angrily, glaring at Mrs Clutch. "Your elf's scared of heights, and those witches in the masks were levitating people! You can't blame him for wanting to get out of their way!"

Mrs Clutch took a step backwards, freeing herself from contact with the elf, whom she was surveying as though he was something filthy and rotten that was contaminating her over-shined shoes.

"I have no use for a house-elf who disobeys me," she said coldly, looking up at Sian. "I have no use for a servant who forgets what is due to his mistress, and his mistress' reputation."

Blinky cried so hard that his sobs echoed around the clearing.

There was a very hasty silence whish was ended by Mr Dawson, who said quietly, "Well, I think I'll take my lot back to the tent, if nobody's got any objections. Alesha, that wand's told us all it can - if Kiara could have it back please - "

Mrs Diggs handed me my wand, which I pocketed.

"Come on, you four," Mr Dawson said quietly. But Sian didn't want to move; her eyes were still upon the sobbing elf. "Sian!" Mr Dawson said, more urgently. But when she didn't respond, Mr Dawson decided to take matters into his own hands, and with his arm still around her, he led her away, with Chris, Chrissie and I following them. Sian kept her eyes on Blinky until she could see him no more.

"What's going to happen to Blinky?" said Sian, the moment we had left the clearing.

"I don't know," said Mr Dawson.

"The way they were treating him!" said Sian furiously. "Mrs Diggs, calling him "elf" all the time ... and Mrs Clutch! She knows he didn't do it and she's still going to sack him! She didn't care how frightened he'd been, or how upset he was - it was like he wasn't even human!"

"Well, he's not," said Chrissie.

Sian rounded on her. "That doesn't mean he hasn't got feelings, Chrissie. He's a living being, with a heart and soul, just like you and me. Honestly, it's disgusting the way - "

"Sian, love, I agree with you," said Mr Dawson, tightening his grip on her arm, "but now is not the time to discuss elf rights. I want to get back to the tent as fast as we can. What happened to the others?"

"We lost them in the dark," said Chris. "Dad, why was everyone so uptight about that snake thing?"

"I'll explain everything back at the tent," said Mr Dawson tensely.

But when we reached the edge of the wood, our progress was impeded.

A large crowd of frightened-looking witches and wizards were congregated there, and when they saw Mr Dawson coming towards them, many of them surged forwards. "What's going on in there?" "Who conjured it?" "Matthew - it's not - _her_?"

"Of course it's not her," said Mr Dawson impatiently. "We don't know who it was, for it looks like whoever conjured it Disapparated. Now, excuse me, please, for I want to get to bed."

One arm still wrapped around Sian, they led Chris, Chrissie and I through the crowd and back into the campsite. All was quiet now; there was no sign of masked witches, though several ruined tents were still smoking.

Kat's head poked out of the first girls' tent.

"Uncle Matt, what's going on?" she called through the dark. "Tanya, Geri, Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Ben and Dave got back OK, but the others - "

"I've got them here," said Mr Dawson, as he let go of Sian, bent down and entered the tent. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I followed him in.

Sam sat at the small kitchen table, holding a bedsheet to her arm, which bled profusely. Kat had a large rip in her shirt, and Perdy sported a bloody nose. Tanya, Geri, Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Ben and Dave looked unhurt, but shaken. And speaking of Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Ben and Dave ...

When those seven saw Sian, they all swarmed around her, and from the way they were asking Sian for comfort and the way they were looking at her, I thought that it kind of looked like a small, family portrait, where after something terrible happened, the babies all gathered around the mother for strength, warmth, support and stability, which was true; I saw Sian looking at them, touching them all gently and comforting them with words that were soft, yet firm. It didn't take too long for Sian to calm her siblings down, for as soon as they were calm, the group dispersed, and grabbed seats wherever they could find them. It was only then that Sam decided to raise her voice.

"Did you get them, Uncle Matt?" she said sharply. "The person who conjured the Trail?"

"No," said Mr Dawson. "We found Beatrice Clutch's elf holding Kiara's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the Trail."

 _"What?"_ said Sam, Kat and Perdy together.

"Kiara's wand?" said Tanya.

 _"Mrs Clutch's elf?"_ said Perdy, sounding thunderstruck.

With some assistance from myself, Chris, Sian and Chrissie, Mr Dawson explained what had happened in the woods. When we had finished our story, Perdy swelled indignantly.

"Well, Mrs Clutch is quite right to get rid of an elf like that!" she said. "Running away when she'd expressly told him not to ... embarrassing her in front of the whole Ministry ... how would that have looked, if he'd have been up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control - "

"He didn't do anything - he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!" Sian snapped at Perdy, who looked very taken aback. Sian had always got on fairly well with Perdy - better, indeed, than the rest of us there.

"Sian, a witch in Mrs Clutch's position can't afford to have a house-elf who's going to run amok with a wand!" said Perdy pompously, recovering herself.

"He didn't run amok!" shouted Sian. "He just picked it off the ground!"

"Look, can someone please explain what that snake thing was?" said Chrissie impatiently. "It wasn't hurting anyone ... why'sit such a big deal?"

"I told you, it's She-You-Know's symbol, Chrissie," said Sian, before anyone else could answer. "Ma told me about it years ago."

"And it hasn't been seen for thirteen years," said Mr Dawson quietly. "Of course people panicked ... it was almost like seeing She-You-Know back again."

"I don't get it," said Chrissie, frowning. "I mean ... it's only a shape in the sky ..."

"Chrissie, She-You-Know and her followers sent the Death Trail into the air whenever they killed," said Mr Dawson. "The terror it inspired ... you have no idea, you're too young. "Just picture coming home, and finding the Death Trail hovering over your house, and knowing what you're about to find inside ..." Mr Dawson winced. "Everyone's worst fear ... the very worst ..."

As he finished this, Sian went over and touched his shoulder in comfort. He in turn touched his eldest child's hand and stroked the skin carefully with his thumb. All was silent for a few moments.

Then Sam, removing the sheet from her arm to check on her cut, said, "Well, it didn't help us tonight, whoever conjured it. It scared the Love Destroyers away the moment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we'd got near enough to unmask any of them. We caught the Pawns before they hit the ground, though. They're having their memories modified right now."

"Love Destroyers?" I said. "What are Love Destroyers?"

"It's what She-You-Know's supporters called themselves," said Sam. "I think we saw what's left of them tonight - the ones who managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban, anyway."

"We can't prove it was them, Sam," said Mr Dawson. "Though it probably was," he added hopelessly, as he continued to stroke Sian's hand for comfort.

"Yeah, I bet it was!" said Chris suddenly. "Dad, we met Dani Malty and her cousin, Keziah Rae-Bradley in the woods, and they as good as told us that Narissa Malty was one of those nutters in the masks! And we all know that the Maltys were right in with She-You-Know!"

"But what were Zira's supporters - " I began. Everyone around me flinched - like most in the wizarding world, the Dawsons all avoided saying Zira's name, which would start changing in my fifth year (ironic that Susan Crighton, Mr Dawson's wife, says the name, isn't it). "Sorry," I said quickly. "What were She-You-Know's supporters up to, levitating Muggles? I mean, what's the point?"

"The point?" said Mr Dawson, with a hollow laugh. "Kiara, that's their idea of fun. Half the Muggle killings back when She-You-Know (and Lord Voldemort) was in power were done for fun. I suppose they had a few drinks tonight and couldn't resist reminding us all that lots of them are still at large. A nice little reunion for them," he finished disgustedly.

"The _"demonstration"_ with the Muggles was also their way of trying to strike fear into the hearts of us who stand against the Dark forces, but it won't work with me, I'm telling you!" Sian added as an afterthought, her face set in a firm, grim look of determination. We all nodded and murmured assent of her words.

"But if they were the Love Destroyers, why did they Disapparate when they saw the Death Trail?" said Chrissie. "They'd have been pleased to see it, wouldn't they?"

"Use your brains, Chrissie," said Sam. "If they really were Love Destroyers, they worked really hard to keep out of Azkaban when She-You-Know lost power, and they told all sorts of lies about her, forcing them to kill and torture people. I bet they'd be even more frightened than the rest of us to see her come back. They denied they'd ever been involved with her when she lost her powers, and went back to their daily lives ... I don't reckon she'd be over-pleased with them, do you?"

"So ... whoever conjured the Death Trail ..." said Sian slowly, "were they doing it to show support for the Love Destroyers, or to scare them away?"

"Your guess is as good as ours, Sian," said Mr Dawson. "But I'll tell you this ... it was only the Love Destroyers who ever knew how to conjure it. I'd be very surprised if the person who did it hadn't been a Love Destroyer once, even if they're not now ... Listen, it's very late, and if you're mother - well, aunt, to some of you - hears what's happened, she'll be worried sick. We'll get a few more hours sleep and then try and get an early Portkey out of here."

But just then Sian's phone went off. She slowly disengaged her hand from her father's, took out her phone and checked who was calling. She then told her father that it was her mother on the other end. Mr Dawson groaned and asked for the phone. Sian gave it to him, and he strode outside to answer the call. From what I could gather, it was quite an unpleasant conversation that passed between them.

After the call had ended and we bid the boys and the Fangs goodnight once more (although, I don't know what was that good about it, to be honest), I got back into my bunk with my head buzzing. I knew I ought to have been feeling exhaustion, for if I remember rightly, it was after three in the morning, but I felt wide awake - wide awake with worry.

Three days before - it felt much longer to me back then, but it really had been three days - I had awoken with my scar burning in my grandmothers' cottage. And that night, for the first time in thirteen years, Lady Zira's Trail had appeared in the sky. I only had one question in my mind at that moment: what did these things mean?

I thought of the letter I had written to my parents before I left my grandmothers' cottage. I wondered whether or not my parents had got it yet, and if they had, then how long would it take before they replied? I lay looking up at the canvas, but no flying fantasies came to me to ease me to sleep that time; and it was long after Chrissie's snores filled the tent that my mind finally drifted off into unconsciousness.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

 **Mayhem at the Ministry**

 **KIARA**

Mr Dawson woke us after only a few hours' sleep. He used magic to pack up the tents, and we left the campsite as quickly as possible, passing Mrs Pawn at the door of her cottage. Mrs Pawn had a strange, dazed look about her, and she waved us off with a vague "Merry Christmas".

"She'll be all right," said Mr Dawson quietly, as we marched off onto the moor. "Sometimes, when a person's memory's modified, it makes them a bit disorientated for a while ... and that was a big thing they had to make her forget."

We heard urgent voices as we approached the spot where the Portkeys lay and, when we reached it, we found a great number of witches and wizards gathered around Babs, the keeper of the Portkeys, who were all clamouring to get away from the campsite as quickly as possible. Mr Dawson had a hurried discussion with Babs; we joined the queue, and were able to take an old rubber tyre back to Forest Hill before the sun had really risen. We walked back through the wood back towards Dawson Manor in the dawn light, talking very little because we were so exhausted, and thinking longingly of breakfast. As we rounded the corner in the wood, the trees thinned and ended at last, and Dawson Manor came into view.

As we got nearer to the grand, miss-matched house, we saw a figure staring out of a window in the kitchen area, waiting for us. As we got closer, I saw that the figure had caramel hair that was slowly turning silver, and that's when I knew that Professor Crighton was waiting for us. My assumptions were correct, for she jumped when she saw us, and came dashing down the stairs from the door that led to the garden from the kitchen, ran as fast as she could to us and flew her arms around Mr Dawson's neck, saying unintelligible words in a worried tone, as a copy of the _Daily Squabbler_ fell from her hands. I looked down and saw the headline: _SCENES OF TERROR_ _AT THE QUIDDITCH FRIENDLY_ , complete with a twinkling, black and white photograph of the Death Trail over the tree-tops.

Crighton by this point had let go of Mr Dawson, and proceeded with taking care at looking at each of her children and nieces in turn, touching each of them gently before embracing them. Sian and I were the last two she got to. Before Crighton had the chance to touch her, Sian embraced her mother warmly. Crighton was taken aback for a few moments, before she put her arms around Sian, and softly stroked her daughter's hair for a few moments before they let go, smiling warmly at each other.

Then Crighton turned to me, and instead of touching me, she gave me this piercing look that gave me the impression that I was being x-rayed. She then picked up the _Squabbler_ , turned to the others and said, "Go inside and tuck in, everyone. You all need it after the night you've had." As they went in, Crighton turned to me and said, "Walk with me, Kiara."

She led me to a part of the garden near the woods. I was wondering what she was going to talk to me about, but I didn't say anything, for I was sure that Crighton would be the one who started off the conversation. As we reached the part of the garden where the trees were standing, she stopped and so did I. We were silent for a few moments, before Crighton started off by saying, "Has anything been troubling you this summer, Kiara?"

I was taken aback by this and looked up at Crighton, who was watching me steadily with her emerald green eyes. I thought whether it would be best to lie to her, but then I reasoned with myself that it was Crighton who I was talking to, not some random woman whom I had never seen before. Besides this is _Crighton_ I'm speaking of, and we had spoken of my scar and Zira a few times before. Add to that what had happened at the Quidditch Friendly, I knew that I would have to say something to her sooner or later. So I sighed and said, "Yes, ma'am."

Crighton nodded thoughtfully. "And what is on your mind, child?"

"Zira," was all I said. Crighton kept her eyes on me for a few moments, before I elaborated on my last statement. "I had a dream that had Zira in it a few night's ago."

"Ah," was all Crighton said. Another pause passed between us before she said, "Tell me what happened in the dream, Kiara."

I didn't want to talk with her - or anyone - about the dream, but this was Crighton, and what choice did I have? So I told her all I could remember: about the house I was in, about the Absters, about the wizard who was murdered, and about the Muggle who was murdered, too.

"Can you remember the names of the Muggle woman and the wizard who were murdered, Kiara?" Crighton asked me.

"No, ma'am," I sighed. "I think Zira may have said something about some plans that she is currently making, but that's all I can remember."

"I see," said Crighton quietly. Another moment of silence passed between us, when Crighton said, "Kiara, have you told Chris, Sian and Chrissie about this dream yet?"

"No, ma'am," I said. "I mean, I was going to tell them a couple of night's ago, but - "

" - You saw them and everyone else around you happy, and didn't want to spoil the mood?" Crighton finished for me. I nodded. "Well, I think you should tell them after breakfast, at any rate," Crighton continued. "They're your friends, and they deserve the truth."

"I will, ma'am. Oh, and I wrote to my parents about it, too. And Grandmother Sarabi knows about the dream as well."

Crighton nodded her head in approval before she said, "And speaking of Sarabi, Kiara, she will be giving you a ring a little while later to see how you are after what happened last night. I asked her to do so, so that you can get some sleep."

"Thanks, ma'am."

"You're welcome. Oh, and Kiara?"

"Yes, Professor?"

"If you ever have another dream where Zira is present, please come and talk to me about it. My door will always be open to you, so promise me that you will do so."

"I promise, ma'am."

"Good," said Crighton, smiling warmly at me once more, her emerald eyes twinkling. "Now, let's get inside and warm ourselves up with food, shall we?" I agreed heartily, and the two of us proceeded the path back to the house and into the kitchen, where everyone was eating a hearty meal. There was some slight chatter going on, but not too much, due to fatigue.

"Ah, there you two are!" said Mr Dawson. "I wondered what was keeping you out there."

Crighton chuckled and said, "We were just discussing the match, Matthew dear. Oh," she added, showing him the paper, "I thought you might want to take a look at this." And she handed him the paper as he put down his knife and fork.

Mr Dawson scanned through the article on the front page quickly, as Perdy looked over his shoulder. "I knew it," he said heavily. " _Ministry blunders_ ... _culprits not apprehended_ ... _lax security_ ... _Dark wizards running unchecked_ ... _national disgrace_ ... who wrote this? Ah ... of course ... Peter Meter."

"That man's got it in for the Ministry of Magic!" said Perdy furiously. "Last week he was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampires! As if it wasn't specifically stated in paragraph twelve of the _Guidelines of Non-Wizard Part Humans_ \- "

"Do us a favour, Perdy," said Sam, yawning, "and shut up."

"I'm mentioned," said Mr Dawson, his eyes widening as he reached the bottom of the Daily Squabbler.

"Where?" perked up Crighton suddenly from her place at the top of table, which she had taken after she had given her husband the paper. "If I'd seen that, I'd have known you were alive, even though I called you late last night because they were talking about it on the Wizarding Television Broadcast last night!"

"Not by name," said Mr Dawson. "Listen to this: _"If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry of Magic official emerged some time after the appearance of the Death Trail, alleging that nobody had been hurt, but refusing to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumours that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen."_ Oh, really," said Mr Dawson in exasperation, as he handed the paper to Perdy. "Nobody _was_ hurt, what was I supposed to say? Rumours that several bodies were removed from the woods ... well, there certainly will be rumours now he's printed that."

He heaved a great sigh. "Susan, Sian, I'm afraid I'm going to have to go into the office. This is going to take some smoothing over."

"I'll come with you, Uncle," said Perdy importantly. "Mrs Clutch will need all hands on deck. And I can give her my Floo powder report in person."

And she bustled out of the kitchen.

I first turned to Crighton, who looked upset, but she nodded her head in understanding. Then I turned to Sian, who was upset and discomforted by this. "Dad, you're supposed to be on holiday! I know that this has got something to do with your office, but surely someone else can cover for you?"

"I've got to go, Sian," said Mr Dawson, "I've made things worse. I'll just change into my robes and I'll be off ..."

"Professor Crighton," I said suddenly, unable to contain myself, "Harold hasn't arrived with a letter for me, has he?"

Crighton jumped and looked at me. "Harold, Kiara? No ... no, there hasn't been any post at all. She then looked at me with a knowing look in her eyes. "Oh, and Kiara?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Isn't there something you need to discuss with Chris, Sian and Chrissie?"

At this, my three best friends looked at me curiously.

I nodded my head at Crighton, before I turned my head to Chris, Sian and Chrissie, and said to them, "Shall we go and dump our stuff in our rooms?"

The three of them nodded, and we got up and made our way out of the kitchen, along the Ancestry Corridor to the main area and up the spiral staircase, but instead of going to our rooms to dump our stuff, we went instead along the corridor past the youngest brother's (Max's) bedroom, and then we just kept walking along corridors and climbing staircases, until we reached the smallest attic.

For those of you who can't recall, there was once one, large attic, which was separated into two (which became clear to me later on that it was made for Sian's benefit, but I'll get to that), so that they could keep a closer eye on the way things were going in both worlds, with the help of their friend from America, who we saw via a computer that was hidden in the wall opposite the door. Anyhoo, we entered, but different call Wade to us this time. Instead, we sat down as Chrissie shut the door, and we waited for her to join us.

"So, Kiara?" she said. "What's up?"

"There's something I haven't told you," I said. "On Saturday morning, I woke up with my scar burning again."

Chris, Sian and Chrissie's reactions were exactly as I had imagined them to be back in my grandmothers' cottage. Sian gasped and started making suggestions at once, mentioning a number of reference books, and everybody from her own mother to Dragon Mort's Matron.

Chris simply looked dumbstruck. "But - she wasn't there, was she? She-You-Know? I mean - last time your scar kept hurting, she was at Dragon Mort, wasn't she?"

"I'm sure she wasn't in Wales," I said. "But I was dreaming about her ... about her and the Absters. I can't remember all of it now, but they were plotting to kill ... someone."

I had teetered for a moment on the verge of saying "me", but I just couldn't bring myself to make Sian look any more horrified than she already did.

"It was only a dream," said Chrissie bracingly. "Just a nightmare."

"Yeah, but was it, though?" I said, turning to look out the window at the brightening sky. "It's weird, isn't it ... my scar hurts, and three days later the Love Destroyers are on the march, and Zira's sign's up in the sky again."

"Don't - say - her - name!" Chrissie hissed through her teeth.

"And remember what Professor Crystals said?" I went on, ignoring Chrissie. "At the end of last year?"

Professor Crystals was our Divination teacher at Dragon Mort (keep up, people!).

Sian's terrified look vanished as she let out a derisive snort. "Oh, Kiara, you aren't going to pay attention to anything that old fraud says, are you?"

"You weren't there," I said. "You didn't hear him. This time was different. I told you, he went into a trance - a real one. And he said the Scarlet Lady would rise again ... _greater and more terrible than ever before_... and she'd manage it because her servants were going back to her ... and that night, the Absters escaped."

There was a silence in which Chrissie played with some of the frayed ends of an old cushion.

"What did Ma want with you before, Kiara?" Sian asked. "When she pulled you aside outside, I mean?"

"She asked me if anything was troubling me, and I told her about the dream, along with Grandmother Sarabi and my parents," I said, shrugging. "And speaking of my parents, I'm still waiting for their letter."

"Good thinking," said Chris. "I bet your parents'll know what to do!"

"Well, Ma and Sarabi will have their opinions, too," said Chrissie, her expression clearing.

"But we don't know where Simba and Nala are ... they could be in Africa or somewhere, couldn't they?" said Sian reasonably. "Harold's not going to manage that journey in a few days."

"Yeah, I know," I said, but there was a leaden feeling in my stomach as I looked out of the window at the Harold-free sky.

We were in silence for a few moments, before Sian said, "But you do make some important points, Kiara."

"How so, Sian?" asked Chris.

"Well, let's think about this logically, shall we?" said Sian, and as she finished this, she got up and started to pace slowly in front of us with her hands entwined together behind her back in military fashion, straight-backed, looking far taller than I had ever seen her. "So, going back to what Kiara said last year which, as we know, Kiara's parents are innocent and the Absters escaped. We know they found She-You-Know and that she is planning something, and the Absters are helping her. Then, two days later, after the Quidditch Friendly happens, the Love Destroyers who escaped Azkaban, got together and tried to remind us that they - in a way - rule. But here's the thing: why? Why then? Why now? Why, after thirteen years, have they suddenly decided to strike? After all, we all know that an event like this takes time and planning, and does not happen every night. I do not know if the Love Destroyers got together in private and planned this, too before any of you ask me," said Sian, before Chris, Chrissie or myself could interrupt her, "but what I do know is that now is the time when we have to start looking out for each other and defending each other, and that if any of you see or hear anything weird, that you should go straight to Ma. And above all - " Sian's voice raised slightly here, as her voice became slightly more mystical, " - we must be careful, for I believe we shall have some answers by the end of our next school year; and therefore, we must be prepared ... for what is yet to come."

Chris, Chrissie and I were struck with stunned silence at Sian's rather chilling words at the end, with nothing but the sound of the birds singing breaking the silence (and it wouldn't be until the end of our fourth year until we realised just how truthful Sian's words were). We were like this for quite some time, until my phone went off and we all jumped at this, and as I pulled it out, I saw that it was Grandmother Sarabi.

When I told them this, Sian, with her voice warm once more, said, "We'll give you some privacy." The she, Chris and Chrissie left.

Once the door had closed, I pressed the answer button and put it to my ear. "Hello, Grandmother - "

"Kiara," Grandmother Sarabi sighed with relief. "Are you all right?"

"I take it you heard the news, then?" I asked her.

"Kiara, I don't think there's a single person on earth right now who doesn't know what's happened!" Grandmother Sarabi barked. There was a short pause, before she said, "But you're avoiding my question, Kiara."

I sighed and said, "Yes, I'm fine. No one hurt me. I'm with the Dawsons as Dawson Manor. Nothing has happened to me, I assure you."

"Oh, thank heavens!"

"I know you're scared, Grandmother, but I'm fine," I assured her. "I had a talk with Crighton about the dream, and right now I'm fine, but tired. That's all."

"You talked with Crighton?" Grandmother Sarabi said. "What did she say?"

"Nothing much, except for me to come to her if it happens again."

"Good. I'm glad of that," she said. And it sounded like she was smiling.

At this point, I let out a rather loud yawn.

"Oh, Kiara, I'm sorry. I forgot you need your sleep. I'll let you go so you can get some rest, but I'm just glad you're all right."

"I know, Grandmother," I told her reassuringly. "Give Grandmother Sarafina my love as always and tell her I'm all right, will you?"

"I will. I'll see you soon, my darling. I love you, Kiara."

"I love you too, Grandmother."

0000

Neither Mr Dawson or Perdy were at the Manor much over that week. Both left the house each morning before the rest of us got up, and returned well after dinner each night.

"It's been absolute uproar," Perdy told us importantly, the Friday before we were due to return to Dragon Mort. "I've been putting out fires all week. People keep sending Howlers, and of course, if you don't open a Howler straight away, it rips itself to shreds. Ashes everywhere. Scorch marks all over my desk and my best quill reduced to cinders."

"Why are they all sending Howlers?" asked Merida, who was slowly flicking through her copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.

"Complaining about security at the Quidditch Friendly," said Perdy. "They want compensation for their ruined property. Mona Fetch has put in a claim for a twelve-bedroomed tent with an on-suite Jacuzzi, but I've got her number. I know for a fact she was sleeping under a cloak propped up on sticks."

Sian, who was sitting in a chair by the fire in the drawing room (where we were all situated), who was drawing something on a sketch pad, pulled out her phone and kept checking it. I knew she was waiting to hear from her father to say when he would be on his way home. Coincidentally, Crighton had left the night before, because she said that she had stuff to attend to at the school. so she said swift goodbyes to us all before she left.

"Ma told me that our father hasn't been called into the office at weekends since the days of Lord Voldemort and She-You-Know," Sian said. "They're working him far too hard. His dinner's going to be ruined if he doesn't come home soon."

"Well, Uncle Matt feels he's got to make up for his mistake at the match, doesn't he?" said Perdy. "If truth be told, he was a tad unwise to make a public statement without clearing with his Head of Department first - "

"Don't you _dare_ blame my father for what that wretched Meter man wrote!" said Sian, flaring up at once.

"If Uncle Matt hadn't said anything, old Peter would have just said it was disgraceful that nobody from the Ministry had commented," said Sam, who was playing chess with Chrissie. "Peter Meter never makes anyone look good. Remember he interviewed all the Fauntrotts' curse breakers once, and he called me a "short-haired nitwit"?"

Rain lashed against the drawing room window. The Tweebs were in their room, working on their inventory. I was polishing my Firecracker with the polish from my Broomstick Servicing Kit that Sian got me for my thirteenth birthday against my feet. Kestrel was painting something and Beth was playing a game on her phone. Chris was carving something (a dragon, I think it was), and Ben, Dave and Kat were watching something on the television. Tanya and Geri were sitting in a far corner, quills out, talking in whispers, with their heads bent over a piece of parchment.

Sian, whose eyes never missed anything, said to the twins with her eyes on them sharply, "What are you two up to?"

"Homework," said Tanya vaguely.

"Don't be ridiculous, we're still on holiday," said Sian.

"Yeah, well, we left it a bit late," said Geri.

"You're not by any chance writing a new _order form_ , are you?" said Sian shrewdly. "You wouldn't be thinking of re-starting _Fangs'_ _Friendly Funnies_ , by any chance?"

"Now, Sian," said Tanya, looking over at her, a pained look on her face. "If the Dragon Mort Submarines sank tomorrow, and Geri and I died, how would you feel knowing that the last thing we heard from you was an unfounded accusation?"

Everyone, even Sian, laughed at that moment. but looking back now ...

"Oh, our father's coming!" said Sian suddenly, as her phone went. She quickly put her utensils on the floor, jumped up, dashed to the door and ran from the room.

We all waited for about five minutes before we heard Mr Dawson's footsteps coming towards us, and a few moments later, he came into the room, followed by Sian, who was carrying his dinner on a tray. He looked completely exhausted.

"Well, the fat's really in the fire now," he told Sian, as he sat down in an armchair next to hers, as Sian put the tray on his lap. He was playing with his shrivelled cauliflower unenthusiastically. "Peter Meter's been ferreting around all week, looking for more Ministry mess-ups. And now he's found out about poor old Bernard Jenkins going missing, so that 'll be the headline in the _Squabbler_ tomorrow. I told Baxter she should have sent someone to look for him ages ago."

"Mrs Clutch has been saying that for weeks and weeks," said Perdy swiftly.

"Clutch is very lucky Peter hasn't found out about Blinky," said Mr Dawson irritably. "There's be a weeks worth of headlines in his house-elf being caught holding the wand that conjured the Death Trail."

"I thought we all agreed that that elf, while irresponsible, did not conjure the Trail?" said Perdy hotly.

"If you ask me, Mrs Clutch is lucky no one at the _Daily Squabbler_ knows how mean she is to house-elves!" said Sian angrily.

"Now, look here, Sian!" said Perdy. "A high-ranking Ministry official like Mrs Clutch deserves unswerving obedience from her servants - "

"Her _slave_ , you mean!" said Sian, her voice rising shrilly, as her chest rose and fell rapidly and the blood rushed to her face as she clenched her fists. "Because not only did Mrs Clutch not _pay_ Blinky, she also treated him as an inferior."

"I think you'd all better go upstairs and check that you've packed properly!" said Mr Dawson, breaking up the argument. "Come on, now, all of you ..."

Sian stood still for a few moments, glaring at Perdy, her eyes looking ready to kill, until she said quietly to Perdy, "This - is - not - over!" Then she turned on her heel and shuffled angrily from the room, her face red with rage.

We were all still and silent for a few moments after that, for even though Sian had left the room, we still felt the tenseness that she had radiated, which she had left behind. After a while, I repacked my Broomstick Servicing Kit, put my Firecracker over my shoulder and walked out of the drawing room with everyone except Mr Dawson, Sam, Kat and Perdy, up to our rooms. The rain sounded even louder the higher we got. When I entered my room, I looked at my half-packed trunk and sighed. I was about to move towards it, but a noise from Chrissie's room distracted me. So I put down my Broomstick Servicing Kit and Firecracker and went to see what was going on in Chrissie's room.

The answer was made clear to me in the form of Piggledon, who was twittering and zooming around in his cage, because the sight of Chrissie's half-packed trunk had excited him. Chrissie, who was reaching for some clothes on the floor, turned round to shut him up when she saw me in the doorway.

"Bung him some Owl Treats," said Chrissie, throwing a packet to me, "they might shut him up."

I poked a few Owl Treats through the bars of Piggledon's cage, then turned back to Chrissie. I went to thinking of Harold, whose cage still stood empty in my room.

"It's been over a week," I said, thinking of Harold's deserted perch. "Chrissie, you don't reckon my parents have been caught, do you?"

"Nah, it would've been all over the Prophet and the Squabbler," said Chrissie. "They Ministry would want to show they caught _someone_ , wouldn't they?"

"Yeah, I suppose ..."

"Ah, good, Ma's got some stuff from Brickabon Alley for me," she said, turning to her pile of parcels on her bed. My pile, for those of you who want to know, consisted of a money bag, along with _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Four_ , by Miranda Goshawk, along with a handful of new quills, a dozen rolls of parchment and re-fills for my potion-making kit - I had been running low on spine of lion-fish and essence of belladonna.

Just then, Sian came walking in, holding a tape measure in one hand and a clipboard in another. I looked at her face, which was soft and warm and her eyes were sparkling, even though some of the red had not left her face.

"Why have you got those, S.D.?" Chrissie said, pointing to the tape measure and the clipboard.

"To take your measurements with."

"Why?"

"Because, Ma asked me to jot down mine, yours, Beth's, Kestrel's, Merida's and Kiara's measurements down, because we need dress robes. Don't ask me why," she said, before either myself or Chrissie could interrupt her, "for I don't know, but what I do know is that it is important for this year. Oh, and don't worry, for I'm making your dresses, whilst Dad will be taking the boys shopping for their dress robes. Now," said Sian, as she dropped the clipboard on Chrissie's bed and pulled the tape measure out, "Chrissie, be a dear and hold out your arms."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

 **Aboard the Dragon Mort Subs**

 **KIARA**

There was a definite end-of-the-holidays gloom in the air when I awoke that morning. Heavy rain still spluttered against the windows as I got dressed in jeans and a T-shirt; I would change into my robes on the Dragon Mort Subs.

Chris, Chrissie, Tanya, Geri and I had just reached the ground floor on our way to breakfast, when Sian appeared at the foot of the stairs, looking harassed.

"Dad!" she called up the staircase. "Dad! Urgent message from the Ministry!"

Chris, Chrissie, Tanya, Geri and I darted out of the way of the stairs, as Mr Dawson came clattering past with his robes on back-to-front, and hurtled out of sight. When myself and the others entered the kitchen, we saw Sian rummaging anxiously through the kitchen drawers - "I've got a quill here somewhere!" - and Mr Dawson was bent over the fire, talking to -

I shut my eyes hard and opened them again to make sure they were working properly.

Alesha Diggs' head was sat in the middle of the flames like a large egg. It talked feverishly fast, completely unperturbed by the sparks flying around it and the flames that were licking its ears.

" ... Muggle neighbours heard bangs and shouting, so they went and called those what-d'you-call-'ems - please-men. Matt, you've got to get over there - "

"But this isn't in my field," said Mr Dawson, confused. "Why doesn't someone like Arthur Weasley go and deal with this?"

"Apparently, Crazy-Head's shouting for you. Keeps saying things like, "I won't stop until I see Matthew Dawson here", no matter how many people try and calm her down. Rambling all sorts, and firing spells at whatever she wants. You know her quite well, Matt, and you know that she'll never stop until you get down there - "

"Here!" Sian said breathlessly, pushing a piece of parchment, a bottle of ink and a crumpled quill into Mr Dawson's hands.

" - it's a real stroke of luck I heard about it, anyway," said Mrs Diggs' head, "I had to come into the office early to send a couple of owls, and I found the Improper Use of Magic lot all setting off - if Peter Meter hears about this one, Matt - "

Mr Dawson sighed and said resignedly, "All right, all right. What does Crazy-Head say happened?" He then unscrewed his ink bottle, loaded up his quill and prepared to take notes.

Mrs Diggs' head rolled its eyes. "Says she heard an intruder in her yard. Says they were creeping towards the house, but they were ambushed by her dustbins."

"What did the dustbins do?" asked Mr Dawson, scribbling frantically.

"Made one hell of a noise and fired rubbish everywhere, as far as I can tell," said Mrs Diggs. "Apparently, one of them was still rocketing around when the please-men turned up - "

Mr Dawson groaned. "And what about the intruder?"

"Matt, you know Crazy-Head," said Mrs Diggs' head, rolling its eyes again. "Someone creeping into the yard in the dead of night?" More likely, there's a very shell-shocked cat wondering around somewhere, covered in potato peelings. But if the Improper Use of Magic lot get their hands on Crazy-Head, she's had it - think of her record - we've got to get her off on a minor charge, something in your department - what are exploding dustbins worth?"

"Might be a caution," said Mr Dawson, still writing furiously, his brow furrowed. "Crazy-Head didn't use her wand? She didn't actually attack anyone?"

"I'll bet she leapt out of bed and started jinxing everything she could reach through the window," said Mrs Diggs, "but they'll have a hard job proving it, there aren't any casualties."

"All right, I'm off," said Mr Dawson, and he stuffed the parchment with his notes on it into his pocket and dashed out of the kitchen again.

Mrs Diggs' head looked round at Sian.

"Sorry about this, Sian," it said, more calmly, "bothering you so early and everything ... but your father's the only person who can get Crazy-Head off - despite it not being his field - and Crazy-Head's supposed to be starting her new job today. Why she had to choose last night ..."

"Never mind, Mrs Diggs," said Sian. "Sure you won't have a piece of toast or anything before you go?"

"Oh, go on, then," said Mrs Diggs.

Sian took a piece of toast from a stack on the kitchen table, put it into the fire tongs and transferred it into Mrs Diggs' mouth.

"Fanks," she said in a small, muffled voice, and then, with a small _pop_ , vanished.

I heard Mr Dawson calling hurried goodbyes to Sam, Kat, Perdy and the rest of his children. Within five minutes, he was back in the kitchen, his robes on the right way round, and dragging a brush through his thick hair.

"I'd better hurry - you all have a good term," said Mr Dawson to Chris, Sian, Chrissie, Tanya, Geri and I, dragging a cloak over his shoulders and preparing to Disapparate. "Sian, you make sure Sam and Kat go with you and the others to the Sub House for me, will you?"

"Of course I will," she said. "You just look aft Crazy-Head, we'll be fine."

Mr Dawson kissed his eldest child's head and vanished. Just after he left, Sam and Kat entered the kitchen.

"Did someone say Crazy-Head?" Sam asked. "What's she been up to now?"

"She says someone tried to break into her house last night," said Sian.

"Crazy-Head Grumpy?" said Geri thoughtfully, spreading marmalade on her toast. "Isn't she that nutter - "

"My father thinks very highly of Crazy-Head Grumpy," said Sian sternly.

"Yeah, well, Uncle Matt collects plugs," said Tanya quietly, as Sian left the room. "Birds of a feather ..."

"Grumpy was a great witch in her time," said Sam.

"She's an old friend of Aunt Sue's, isn't she?" said Kat.

"Aunt Sue's not what you'd call _normal_ , though, is she?" said Tanya. "I mean, I know she's a genius and everything ..."

"Who _is_ Crazy-Head?" I asked.

"She's retired, she used to work at the Ministry," said Kat. "I met her once when Uncle Matt took me into work with him. She was an Auror - one of the best ... Half the cells in Azkaban are full because of her. She made herself loads of enemies, though ... the families of the people she caught, mainly ... and I heard she's been getting really paranoid in her old age. Doesn't trust anyone anymore. Sees Dark wizards everywhere."

Sam and Kat agreed to come and see us all off at the Sub House, but Perdy, apologising most profusely, said that she really needed to get to work.

"I just can't justify taking more time off at the moment," she told us. "Mrs Clutch is really starting to rely on me."

"You know what, Perdy?" said Geri seriously. "I reckon she'll know your name soon."

The first time I was at Dawson Manor (the summer before my second year of school), the Dawsons used to own a car, but this was no longer the case, because in our second year, Chrissie and I had to take because a certain house-elf named Dokey shut down the barrier to the Sub House, do that Chrissie and I couldn't get through, because she (Dokey) was trying to protect me from the monster in the Chamber of Mysteries. Anyhoo, I thought Mr Dawson would have got the Ministry cars for us again, but little did I know that during the last couple of years, Joey had been working on a coupe of cars that Mr Dawson bought, and had modified them, like he did with the old car. They were both the same make of car: both were black and they all had the same gadgets on the inside. And they also had the same Undetectable Extension Charm inside.

We split into two groups: Chris, Sian, Chrissie, Merida, Dave, Tanya, Sam and I went with Joey in the first car, and Beth, Kestrel, Joe, Jack, Geri and Ben went with Kat in the second car.

The journey to the Sub House was rather comfortable, even though there were so many of us in both cars. Our luggage all fit comfortably in the back, even thought the owls were rather excited. We got to the quiet street where the Sub House was, as the rain came down harder than ever, and we got soaked rolling our trunks on trolleys towards the grate that would lead us to the Sub House.

I was used to getting to the Sub House by this point. It was a simple matter of walking straight through the apparently solid grate, which we would somewhat fall through on to a sort of waterslide that would take us to the Sub House. The only tricky part was doing in an unobtrusive way, so as to avoid attracting Muggle attention; but seeing as this street was pretty quiet, and that Muggles very rarely came down that street, we were quite all right. We went in groups that day: Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I (the most conspicuous, as we were accompanied by Piggledon, Cattonia and Lucifer) went first; we walked casually over the grate, and slowly slid under it, where we were transported quickly on a slide of water (which fortunately did not splash all over us)), which took us to the Sub House.

The Sub House was a massive, underground room, where many Dragon Mort students and their parents converged, and they looked like they were swimming in the deep blue pool, which was reflective of the magical blue tiles that made the walls look like the water waves of the sea, the way it was reflected from the lights. At the far end of the Sub House, over a large pool of water were the submarines, which were large and blue and were supported by cables. Piggledon and Cattonia became noisier than ever in response to the hooting of many owls through the mist. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I stood back from the gateway as Tanya, Geri, Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Ben, Dave, Sam and Kat came through.

It was as we were standing thus that I heard two people calling me. I looked around, trying to find where the voices were coming from when, looking over by the ramp to the subs, I saw -

"Grandmother Sarabi! Grandmother Sarafina!" I yelled, dragging my trolley behind me as I walked as fast as I could through the crowd of people in the Sub House. When I finally reached them, I embraced each of them fondly. They told me that they had missed me terribly and that they were glad to see me again. They then asked me if I had enjoyed the rest of my summer with the Dawsons, what I had been getting up to at their house, etc.

When Chris, Sian, Chrissie and the others had come over, we only had enough time to see my grandmothers, Sam and Kat off, for a voice said that we had five minutes to say our goodbyes and board the subs.

"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," said Kat, grinning, as she hugged Merida goodbye.

"Why?" said Tanya keenly.

"You'll see," said Kat. "Just don't tell Perdy I mentioned it ... it's "classified information until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it", after all."

"Yeah, I sort of wish I was back at Dragon Mort this year," said Sam, arms crossed, an almost wistful look coming across her face as she looked at the subs.

 _"Why?"_ said Geri impatiently.

"You're going to have an interesting year this year," said Sam, her eyes twinkling. "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it ..."

 _"A bit of what?"_ said Chrissie.

But at that moment, the whistle blew, and my grandmothers chivvied all of us towards the ramp and up to the subs.

"Tell Mr Dawson that I said thanks for inviting me to stay," I said to Sam, as the Dawsons, Tanya, Geri and I were going up the ramp.

"I will," Sam called back.

"I was going to invite you to come home for Christmas, Kiara - but ... well, I expect you and your friends are all going to want to stay at Dragon Mort, what with ... one thing and another," said Grandmother Sarabi teasingly.

"Sarabi," yelled Chris irritably, "what do you, Sam and Kat know that we don't?"

"You'll find out this evening, I expect," said Grandmother Sarabi, smiling. "It's going to be very exciting - mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules - "

"WHAT RULES?" shouted Chris, Chrissie, Tanya, Geri and I together.

"Aunt Sue will tell you tonight, I'm sure," said Sam. "Of you go, now - and be good!"

Before any of us could say anything else, guards were coming along to move the rest of us to the subs; Tanya and Geri went to the sixth year sub, whilst Chris, Sian, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Ben, Dave and I moved to the Dawsons' special sub. We got in just as the door closed, put our trunks on the blocks that held them in place and then we strapped ourselves in as the sub started moving along the chain slowly, reaching the point over the pool where the chain stopped. We halted in the air for a few moments, before one by one, the subs were dropped into the pool, which started our journey to Dragon Mort.

After our sub had dropped into the water, Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I unbuckled ourselves, as Chrissie said, "Baxter wanted to tell us what's happening at Dragon Mort back at the Quidditch Friendly, remember? But even our own parents won't say anything. Wonder what - "

"Hey, guys," said a small voice next to us. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I jumped and looked at a tall, chubby, round-faced girl, who we knew as Nikita Bore, who was sat opposite us from across the sub.

"Hey, Nikita, how was your summer?" I asked her.

"Not bad," Nikita shrugged. "How was yours?"

"Great," said Chrissie. "We got to go to the Quidditch Friendly. Did you get to go?"

"Nah, Granddad didn't want to go," Nikita said miserably. "Wouldn't buy tickets. It sounded amazing, though."

"It was," said Chrissie. "Look at this, Nikita ..."

She got up, walked over to her trunk, rummaged around in it and, careful not to knock it down from the block that it was in, she pulled out the miniature figure of Outsider.

"Oh, wow," said Nikita enviously, as Chrissie sat down again and tipped Outsider onto her pudgy hand.

"So, what are you doing here, Nikita? Why aren't you over in the fourth year sub?" said Sian, not accusing, just curious.

Nikita looked uncomfortable, but she was saved answering Sian's question, for someone had already answered for her.

"That would be because of us, Sian."

We looked at the door to another compartment in the sub, and there stood Merida who had answered Sian, followed closely by Beth, Kestrel and Dave. After Dave had shut the door, he, Merida, Beth and Kestrel sat by Nikita.

"I saw her on her own looking lonely," said Merida, "and I like her and felt sorry for Nikita, so that's why I asked her to sit with us."

"Oh," said Sian, now being the one who looked uncomfortable, for I believed that in her mind she felt she _was_ being accusing, but now felt ashamed of what she had just said. "Sorry, Nikita," said Sian, sounding and looking sincere at her.

"That's OK," said Nikita in a small voice. They both smiled at each other.

"Hey, do you guys want to hear what we heard Malty say?" Beth put-in suddenly.

"What did she say?" I said, before anyone could say anything.

Beth looked smug, as Kestrel said in her soft, wise voice, "Well, Malty said that her mother wanted to send she and Rae-Bradley to Uagadou in south-western Africa, rather than sending them to Dragon Mort - "

"Humph! Well, that makes sense, for we all know what their opinion of Ma is," said Sian, glowering.

"Indeed, sister," Kestrel continued, "and Uagadou, according to Malty, doesn't admit the Muggle-borns and Bright-Brains in, and they're big supporters of the Dark Arts, and practice them over there, too."

"So, if that's the case, why are Malty and Rae-Bradley here and not there?" said Chris. "We wouldn't have to deal with them, then."

"Oh, Malty's dad didn't want them to go too far from home, so that's why they go to Dragon Mort," said Merry.

"Yeah, and we also overheard her talking about what's going down at the school this year." At this, Chris, Chrissie and I sat up straighter, eagerly interested in what Malty said, whereas Sian, who was getting bored with the conversation, went to her trunk, pulled out a sketchpad and pencils, sat back down and began to draw.

"What did you hear?"

"What did she say?"

"What _is_ going on?"

"Well," said Kestrel, and we all calmed down slightly from the softness that her voice produced, "we heard Malty say that she was going to enter something. What the "something" is, we don't know, but what we do know is that her mother told Malty and Rae-Bradley, and that she's excited about it, and that she's considering entering herself. We would have heard more, but Malty, Rae-Bradley and the others were moving away from us, so we didn't get to hear any more."

This was interesting to Chris, Chrissie and I, and for the rest of the journey, all of us (except Sian) were engrossed in a discussion about what could be going on that year, and what Malty could be entering. We were discussing this as we changed into our navy robes, and we were still discussing it as the Dragon Mort Subs were bubbling up to the surface in the Sub Cave.

As the sub doors opened, we heard a rumble of thunder from outside. Sian bundled Lucifer up in her cloak as we left the sub, and climbed the stairs out of the Cave and into the harsh, cold, wet storm. We bent our heads against the downpour, for the rain was coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over our heads as we moved towards the stagecoaches.

"Oooh, I wouldn't fancy crossing the river in this weather, even if it is by a portal," said Sian fervently, shivering as we inched slowly along the dark path with the rest of the crowd. A hundred horseless carriages stood waiting for us near the Cave. Chris, Sian, Chrissie, Nikita and I climbed gratefully inside one of them, the door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages rumbled and splashed its way up the track towards Dragon Mort castle.

0000

 **A.N.: Sorry for the short chapter, but there are longer ones still to come soon. Oh, and don't hate me for Uagadou, for this is what I created before the stuff on Pottermore came out, which I am not changing because it works with my story.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

 **The Triwizard Tournament**

 **KIARA**

Through the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, and up the sweeping drive the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Looking out the window, I saw Dragon Mort coming nearer, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain. Lightning flashed across the sky as our carriage came to a halt before the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps. People who had occupied the carriages in front were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle; Chris, Sian, Chrissie, Nikita and I jumped down from our carriage and dashed up the steps too, looking up only when we were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit Entrance Hall, with its magnificent marble staircase.

"Blimey," said Chrissie, shaking her head and sending water everywhere, "if that keeps up the river's going to overflow. I'm soak - ARGH!"

A large, brown, water-filled balloon had dropped from out of the ceiling onto Chrissie's head and exploded. Drenched and spluttering, Chrissie staggered sideways into me, just as a second water bomb dropped - narrowly missing Chris and Sian, it burst at my feet, sending a wave of cold water over my shoes and into my socks. People all around us shrieked and started to push each other in their efforts to get out of the line of fire - I looked up and saw, twenty feet above us, Weeves the poltergeist, a little woman in a bell-covered hat and orange scarf, her wide, malicious face contorted with concentration as she took aim again.

"WEEVES!" yelled an angry voice. "Weeves, come down here at ONCE!"

Professor Darbus, deputy headmistress and Head of Lion-Heart house, had come dashing out of the Great Hall; she skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Sian around the neck to stop herself falling. "Ouch - sorry, Miss Dawson - "

"That's all right, Professor!" Sian gasped, massaging her throat.

"Weeves, get down here NOW!" barked Professor Darbus, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upwards through her square-rimmed spectacles.

"Not doing nothing!" cackled Weeves, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year boys, who ran into the Great Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" And she aimed another bomb at another group of second-years who had just arrived.

"I shall call the Headmistress!" shouted Professor Darbus. "I'm warning you, Weeves - "

Weeves stuck out her tongue, threw the last of her water bombs into the air and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cackling insanely.

"Well, move along, then!" said Professor Darbus to those of us who were part of the bedraggled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!"

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I slipped and slid across the Entrance Hall and through the double doors to the right, Chrissie muttering furiously under her breath as she pushed her sopping hair out of her face.

The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Silver plates and goblets, which were gleaming by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles that floated over the tables in mid-air. The four long house tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils. It was so much warmer in there. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I walked past the Snake-Eyes, Raven-Wings and Badger-Stripes tables, and sat down with the rest of the Lion-Hearts at the far side of the Hall, next to Nearly Headless Nicola, the Lion-Heart ghost. Pearly white and semi-transparent, that night Nicola was dressed in her usual long dress with a particularly large ruff, which served the dual purpose of looking extra festive and ensuring that her head didn't wobble too much on her partially severed neck.

"Good evening," she said, beaming at us.

"Says who?" I said, taking off my shoes and emptying them of water. "Hope they hurry up with the Sorting, I'm starving."

The Sorting of new students into the four houses took place at the start of every year, but due to an unlucky combination of circumstances, I hadn't been present at one since my own, so therefore I was quite looking forward to it.

Just then, a highly-excited, breathless voice called down the table, "Hiya, Kiara!"

It was Colleen McCreevy, a third-year to whom I was something of a hero.

"Hi, Colleen," I said warily.

"Kiara, guess what? Guess what, Kiara? My sister's starting! My sister Denise!"

"Er - good," I said.

"She's really excited!" said Colleen, practically jumping up and down in her seat. "I just hope she's in Lion-Heart! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Kiara?"

"Er - yeah, all right," I said. I turned back to Chris, Sian, Chrissie and Madam Nicola. "Brothers and sisters usually go in the same houses, don't they?" I said. I was judging by the Dawsons, all ten of whom had been put into Lion-Heart.

"Oh, no, not necessarily," said Sian. "Sarah Rimmer's twin is in Badger-Stripes, and they're quite similar in features. You'd think, judging by that, that they'd be together, wouldn't you?"

I looked up at the staff table. There seemed to be more empty seats than usual that night. Mina, of course, was helping the first-years across the river; Professor Darbus was presumably supervising the drying of the Entrance Hall floor, but there was another empty chair, too, and I couldn't think who was missing.

"Where's the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Sian, who was also looking up at the teachers.

We had never had a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who had lasted more than three terms. My favourite by far had been Professor Meers, who had resigned towards the end of my third year at Dragon Mort. I looked up and down the staff table. There was definitely no new face there.

"Maybe the couldn't get anyone!" said Sian, looking anxious.

I scanned the table more carefully. Tiny little Professor Winds, the Charms teacher, was sitting on a large pile of cushions beside Spud (no Professor in front, just Spud), the Herbology teacher, whose hat was tilted back slightly. He was talking to Professor Comet, the Astronomy teacher. On his other side was the sallow-faced, hook-nose, greasy-haired Potions mistress, Triphorm - my least favourite person at Dragon Mort (well, one of them at the time, anyway). My loathing of Triphorm was matched only by Triphorm's hatred of me, a hatred which had, if possible, intensified last year, when I helped my parents escape right under Triphorm's nose (HA!) - Triphorm and my parents had been enemies since their own schooldays, but - never mind! Although, I'm not so much against her now - but I'm getting ahead of myself.

On Triphorm's other side was an empty seat, which I guessed was Professor Darbus'. Next to it, and in the very centre of the table, was Professor Crighton's chair, which was also empty; but that was only because Crighton made her grand entrance after the Sorting was over. For some reason, I then decided to glance up at the enchanted ceiling, which looked like the sky outside, and I had never seen it looking as stormy as it did look that night. Black and purple clouds swirled across it, and as another thunderclap sounded outside, a fork of lightning flashed across it.

"Oh, hurry up," Chrissie moaned beside me. "I could eat a Hippogriff."

The words were no sooner out of her mouth than the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor Darbus led a line of first-years up to the top of the Hall. If Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I were wet, it was nothing to how the first-years looked. They appeared to have swam across the river, rather than taking the portal across it. All of them shivered with a combination of anticipation and nerves as they shuffled in twos between the Raven-Wings and Badger-Stripes tables, and came to a halt in a line facing the staff table; all of them, except the smallest of the lot, a girl with mousey hair, who was wrapped in what I recognised as Mina's beaver skin overcoat. The coat was so big for her that it looked as though she was draped in a furry brown marquee. Her small face protruded from over the collar, looking almost painfully excited. When she had lined up with her terrified-looking peers, she caught Colleen McCreevy's eye, gave a double thumbs-up and mouthed, "I fell in the river a second time before I crossed!" She looked positively delighted about it.

Professor Darbus placed a four-legged stool on the ground before the first-years, before she turned to face the rest of the school and shouted, "The Sorting Heads!"

Just like at my Sorting, one after another, four smoky heads came through the double doors, stopped right in front of the first-years and turned into animal heads: the first was a golden lion with a scarlet mane and eyes, the second, a blue raven with bronze eyes, the third a black badger head with a yellow stripe down the middle where the white stipe should be, and last but not least was the snake head, which was green with silver eyes and silver underneath. The rest of the school, along with Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I along with them applauded the Sorting Heads. The Sorting Heads bowed to us, before turning back to the teachers, leaving the rest of us looking at the red, blue, black-and-yellow and green backs of their heads.

"The Sorting Scroll, if you please," Professor Darbus said to the Sorting Heads. We all waited for a few moments, before the Lion-Head shook, and I could (and still can) imagine the mighty Lion-Head open its large mouth wide, and then saw the scroll float in mid-air, and watched as Professor Darbus caught it. She then went back to where the stool stood and faced the first-years again.

"When I call your name, you will come forth," she told the first years, "sit on the stool, and when one of the Sorting Heads announces your house, you will go and sit at the appropriate table.

"Adams, Shaunee!"

A girl walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot, and sat on the stool. I could see her nervously looking up at the four Sorting Heads.

"CAW!" shouted the Raven-Head.

Shaunee Adams jumped off the stool and ran over to the Raven-Wings table, where everyone there applauded her. I caught a glimpse of Khan, the Raven-Wings Seeker, cheering Shaunee Adams as she sat down. For a fleeting second, I had a strange desire to join the Raven-Wings table, too.

Bagnall, Maisie!"

"HISS!" shouted the Snake-Head.

The table on the opposite side of the Hall erupted with cheers; I saw Malty and Rae-Bradley clapping as Bagnall joined the Snake-Eyes. I wondered whether Bagnall knew that Snake-Eyes house had turned out more Dark witches and wizards than any other. Tanya and Geri hissed Maisie Bagnall as she sat down.

"Brackenridge, Elliot!"

"SQUEAK!"

"Caulton, Ophelia!"

"SQUEAK!"

"Cureton, Dakota!"

"ROAR!" the Lion-Head roared for the first time.

Dakota Cureton came running over to the Lion-Heart table, just as Mina sidled into the Hall through a door behind the teachers' table. About twice as tall as a normal woman, and at least three times as broad, Mina, with her slick brown hair tied back in a tight bun and her eyes twinkling. Even though she was extremely tall and strong, Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I knew that she would never hurt a fly - well, unless someone got her really wound up, that is.

I looked back at the Sorting Heads, who were Sorting Ellis Dodkin.

The Sorting continued; boys and girls with varying degrees of fright on their faces moved, one by one, to the four-legged stool, the line dawdling slowly as Professor Darbus passed the L's.

"Oh, hurry up," Chrissie moaned, massaging her stomach.

"Now, Chrissie, the Sorting's much more important than food," said Madam Nicola, as "Magoo, Lucas" became a Badger-Stripes.

"Course it is, if you're dead," snapped Chris, who appeared to be just as hungry as Chrissie.

"I do hope that this year's bunch of Lion-Hearts are up to scratch," said Madam Nicola, applauding as "McCreevy, Denise" joined the Lion-Heart table and joined her sister. "We don't want to break our winning streak, do we?"

Lion-Heart house had won the House Cup for the past three years in a row, as Denise said to Colleen, "Colleen, I fell in! It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and threw me back on land!"

"Cool!" said Colleen, just as excitedly. "It was probably the giant squid, Denise!"

 _"Wow!"_ said Denise, as though anyone in their wildest dreams could hope for more than being thrown into a storm-tossed, fathoms-deep river, and be pushed out of it again by a giant sea-monster.

"Denise! Denise! See that girl down there, Denise? The one with the golden hair? See her? _Know who she is, Denise?_ "

I turned my head quickly back to the Sorting.

"Pridmore, Gethin!"

"HISS!"

"Quinn, Orla!"

"CAW!"

And finally, with "Whitney, Kaela" ("SQUEAK!"), the Sorting ended. Professor Darbus picked up the stool and carried them away, as the Sorting Heads separated to the four corners of the Hall. Professor Darbus soon took her place at the table, stood behind her chair and said, "Please welcome our Headmistress, Professor Susan Crighton!"

The four Sorting Heads zoomed to the middle of the Hall between the Raven-Wings and Badger-Stripes tables and spun around quickly, when suddenly, with a blinding flash of silver light, a tall, thin woman with waist-length caramel hair that was turning silver, which curled inwardly at the ends, who had a warm smile and twinkling emerald eyes, who was wearing robes of silver and her infamous silver phoenix pendant, that had emerald for its eyes and had emerald beads along the chain, spread her arms widely as the Sorting Heads disappeared, and said loudly, "Welcome one, and all, to Dragon Mort Magical Academy!"

Every student in the Hall - including myself - applauded and cheered as she took her place at the staff table. "About time," said Chrissie, once the applause and cheers had subsided, seizing her knife and fork, and looked rather expectantly at her plate, as her mother stood in front of her chair at the teachers' table.

"I have only two words to say to you," she told us, her voice echoing around the Hall. _"Tuck in."_

"Hear, hear!" Chris, Chrissie and I said loudly, as the empty dishes filled magically before our eyes.

Madam Nicola watched mournfully as Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I loaded our plates.

"Aaah, 'at's be'er," said Chris, with his mouth full of mashed potato.

"You're lucky there's a feast tonight at all, you know," said Madam Nicola. "There was trouble in the kitchens earlier."

I swallowed my food before I asked, "Why? What happened?"

"Weeves, of course," said Madam Nicola, shaking her head, which wobbled dangerously. She pulled her ruff a little higher up her neck. "The usual argument, you know. She wanted to attend the feast - well, it's quite out of the question, you know what she's like, utterly uncivilised, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council - the Fat Nun was all for giving her a chance - but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baroness put her foot down."

The Bloody Baroness was the Snake-Eyes ghost, a gaunt and silent spectre covered in silver blood stains. She was the only person at Dragon Mort who could control Weeves.

"Yeah, we thought Weeves seemed to be hacked off about something," said Chrissie darkly. "So what did she do in the kitchens?"

"Oh, the usual," said Madam Nicola, shrugging. "Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits - "

 _Clang._ Sian had knocked over her silver goblet. Pumpkin juice spread steadily over the tablecloth, staining several feet of white linen orange, but Sian paid no attention.

"There are house-elves _here_?" she said, staring horror-struck at Madam Nicola. "Here at _Dragon Mort_?"

"Certainly," said Madam Nicola, looking surprised at her reaction. "The largest number in almost any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred."

"I've never seen one!" said Sian.

"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen, by day, do they?" said Madam Nicola. "They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning ... see to the fires and so on ... I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you? That's the mark of a good house-elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?"

Sian stared at her.

"But they get _paid_?" she said. "They get _holidays_ , don't they? And - and sick-leave and pensions and everything?"

Madam Nicola thought about this for a few moments before she answered, "Well, not at first, no. But I believe I heard a few years ago, that a Mrs Hermione Weasley, who went into the Ministry of Magic, started a movement that she originally started whilst she at school at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and took it with her when she went to the Ministry. At first, people were shocked by this movement, but slowly over the years, it's started to properly take off, and house-elves are currently getting their voices heard and their lives made better. Indeed, Sian, I believe your mother has started to be a part of it in recent years."

Sian thought about what Madam Nicola said for a few minutes, before she said, "Well, it's a start, I suppose." And she started eating again, but very little, so it seemed.

"Oh, c'mon, Sharn," said Chrissie, accidentally spraying me with bits of Yorkshire pudding. "Oops - sorry, 'Iara - " she swallowed. "You won't give them sick-leave by half-starving yourself."

"I know that Chrissie," Sian said, a determined look set on her face, "but I swear I will continue to make lives better for these poor creatures, even if it kills me!" And with that, she struck a big piece of chicken with her fork, and took a rather angry bite out of it. To my eyes, it almost looked like Sian had eaten the end of her fork as well, but as she pulled it out of her mouth, I saw that the fork was whole and intact.

The rain was still drumming heavily against the high, dark windows. Another clap of thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the silver plates as the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with the puddings.

Sian took to eating chocolate gateau almost as angrily as she had been eating her first course, glowering at her plate. Chris, Chrissie and I had experienced a few angry outbursts from Sian over the years, and we knew how she got when her temper reached boiling point, so we just let her be.

When the puddings, too, had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean again, Susan Crighton got to her feet. The buzz of chatter that filled the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling of the wind and the pounding rain could be heard.

"So," said Crighton, smiling around at us all. "Now that we are all fed and watered" ("In a matter of speaking!" said Sian), "I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.

"Mr Match, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle this year has been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr Match's office, if anybody would like to check it."

The corners of Crighton's mouth twitched.

She continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Dragsmede to all below third-year.

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the inter-house Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

 _"What?"_ I gasped. I looked at Tanya and Geri, my then fellow members of the Lion-Heart Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Crighton, apparently too appalled to speak.

Crighton continued, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and will be continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Dragon Mort - "

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder, and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

A woman stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff and shrouded in a black travelling cloak. Every head - including mine - in the Great Hall swivelled towards the stranger, who was suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. She lowered her hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark grey hair, the tips standing on end, and then she began to walk up towards the teachers' table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on her every other step. She reached the end of the top table, turned right and limped heavily towards Crighton. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Sian gasped.

The lightning had thrown her face into sharp relief (although looking at it, I'm not sure that relief is the right word to use), and it was unlike any face I had ever seen before or since. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces were supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the woman's eyes that made her frightening.

Her two eyes on either side of her nose were both large, brilliant and black. But here's the thing - she had four other eyes, round as coins, that were vivid, electric blue, and were stuck _all across her forehead_. For a moment, I saw the one on the far left looking left, the second one looking up, the third looking down and the fourth looking right, before they all started moving, ceaselessly, without blinking, and were moving in different direction, each eye moving independently of its own accord, not following the others.

The stranger reached Crighton. She stretched out her hand that was as badly scarred as her face, and Crighton shook it, muttering words that I couldn't hear. She seemed to be making some enquiry to the stranger, who shook her head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Crighton nodded, and gestured the woman to the empty seat on her right-hand side.

The stranger sat down, shook her mane of dark grey hair out of her face, pulled a plate of sausages towards her, raised it to what was left of her nose and sniffed it. She then took a small knife out of her pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. Her normal eyes were fixed on the sausages, but the blue eyes were still darting restlessly around in their sockets, taking in the Hall and all of its students.

"May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," said Crighton brightly into the silence, "Professor Grumpy."

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or we students clapped except for Crighton and Mina. Both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. The rest of us were too transfixed by Grumpy's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at her.

"Grumpy?" I then muttered to Chrissie. " _Crazy-Head Grumpy?_ The one your Dad went to help this morning?"

"Must be," said Chrissie, in a low, awed voice.

"What happened to her?" Sian whispered. "What happened to her _face_?"

"Dunno," Chris whispered back, he and Chrissie both watching Grumpy with fascination.

Grumpy seemed totally indifferent to her less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of her, she reached again into her travelling cloak, pulled out a hip-flask and took a long draught from it. As she lifted her arm to drink, her cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and I saw below the table several inches of a carved, wooden leg, which ended in a clawed foot.

Crighton cleared her throat.

"As I was saying," she said, smiling at the sea of students before her, and all of us, I might add, were still gazing transfixed at Crazy-Head Grumpy, "we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event which has not been held for over thirteen years. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that, despite what some people have been saying, the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place this year."

Some people were excited at this idea; others, like Sian, were shocked. I, who had known nothing of this Tournament until that moment, stayed silent, but Tanya, who took her excitement to a whole new level, said loudly, "YOU'RE JOKING!"

"I am not joking, Tanya," she said, "although, now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about an imp, a pixie and a leprechaun who all go into a bar - "

Professor Darbus cleared her throat loudly.

"Er - but maybe this is not the time ... no ..." said Crighton. "Where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament ... well, some of you will not know what this Tournament involves, so I hope those who _do_ know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago, as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry - Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. the schools took it in turns to host the Tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death-toll mounted so high that the Tournament was discontinued."

 _"Death toll?"_ Sian whispered, looking alarmed. But her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of our fellow students in the Hall; many of them around us were whispering excitedly with each other, and even I at this point was far more interested in hearing more about the Tournament than in worrying about deaths that happened years ago.

"There had been several attempts to bring it back over the centuries, and finally, Hogwarts succeeded back in 1994. Now, I know," said Crighton, speaking slowly and steadily, "that many of you here know what happened that year, and the consequences that resulted from Harry Potter's involvement in it ... but I assure you that this time round, we are more prepared than ever. Our own Departments of International Magical Co-operation and Magical Games and Sports have decided that the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find themselves in mortal danger." (Kind of ironic, but we'll get to that.)

"The heads of Beauxbatons and Uagadou - not Durmstrang this time - will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Hallowe'en. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" Tanya Fang hissed down the table, her face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. She was not the only person who seemed to be visualising themselves as Dragon Mort champion. At every table, I saw people either gazing raptly at Crighton, or else whispering fervently to their neighbours. But then Crighton spoke again, and the Hall quietened once more.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Dragon Mort," she said, "the Heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This - " Crighton raised her voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Fang twins suddenly looked furious - "is a measure that we feel is necessary, given that the Tournament tasks will be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Dragon Mort champion." Her emerald eyes twinkled as they flickered over Tanya and Geri's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.

"As I said before, the delegations from Beauxbatons and Uagadou will be arriving in October, and will be remaining with us for the greater part of the year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Dragon Mort champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and even though it is Saturday, lessons will begin on Monday, so I suggest that you all get enough rest before we start filling your precious minds with knowledge. Bedtime! Chop, chop!"

Crighton sat down again and turned to talk to Crazy-Head Grumpy. There was a great scraping and banging as the students around us got to their feet, and most of them started swarming towards the double doors that led to the Entrance Hall.

"They can't do that!" said Geri Fang, who had not joined the crowd that moved towards the doors, but was instead standing up and glaring at Crighton. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a go?"

"They're not stopping me entering," said Tanya stubbornly, also glowering at her aunt. "The champions'll get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!"

"Yeah," said Chrissie, a faraway look in her eyes. "Yeah, a thousand Galleons ..."

"And eternal glory," Chris added.

"Come on," said Sian, "we'll be the only ones left here if we all don't start moving."

Chris, Sian, Chrissie, Tanya, Geri and I set off for the Entrance Hall, Tanya and Geri debating the ways in which Crighton might stop those who were underage from entering the Tournament.

"Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" I said.

"Dunno," said Tanya, "but it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Aging Potion might just do it, Geri ..."

"Ma knows you're not of age, though," said Chrissie.

"Yeah, but she's not the one who gets to decide who the champion's going to be, is she?" said Tanya shrewdly. "Sounds to me like once this judge knows who wants to enter, they'll choose the best from each school and won't care about how old they are. Aunt Sue's trying to stop us giving our names."

"People have died, though!" said Sian in a worried voice, as we walked through a door concealed behind a tapestry, and started up another, narrower staircase. "I mean, do you remember what happened last time?"

"Yeah," said Tanya impatiently, "but that was years ago, wasn't it? Anyway, where's the fun without a little risk? Hey, Chris, Chrissie, what if we found out how to get around Aunt Sue? Fancy entering?"

Chrissie was about to answer, but Sian, being her eldest sister, practically yelled, "You two may want to go for it, but I will not stand by and watch you two try to put my family in danger! So don't you dare try and talk them into it again, or there'll be hell to pay if you do!" This ended that discussion, and we all proceeded to the Lion-Heart common room again, when Chrissie got her foot stuck in a trick step halfway up the stairs, which older students always remembered to jump. Chris and I seized her under the armpits and pulled her out, while a suit of armour at the top of the stairs creaked and clanked, laughing wheezily.

"Shut it, you," said Chris, banging down on its visor as we passed.

We made our way up to the entrance of Lion-Heart Tower, which was concealed behind a large portrait of a Fat Lord in blue robes.

"Password?" he said, as we approached.

"Balderdash," said Geri, "a Prefect downstairs told me."

The portrait swung forwards to reveal a hole in the wall, through which we all climbed. A crackling fire warmed the circular common room, which was full of squashy armchairs and tables. Sian cast the merrily dancing flames a dark look, and I distinctly remember her mutter _"slave labour"_ , before she, Chrissie, Tanya, Geri and I bid Chris goodnight before he disappeared through the door to the boys' dormitories, as we went through the door to the girls'.

Sian, Chrissie, Tanya, Geri and I climbed up the last, spiral staircase, bid Tanya and Geri goodnight when they realised their dormitory, and the three of us remained kept walking to our special dormitory, where six four-poster beds with coral hangings stood against the walls, each with its owner's trunk at the foot. Beth, Kestrel and Merida were already getting ready for bed, so Sian, Chrissie and I decided to do the same thing, too.

Once we had all changed into our pyjamas and got into bed, I noticed that someone - a house-elf, no doubt - had placed warming pans beneath the sheets. It was extremely comfortable, lying there in a warm bed, as the coldness of the storm raged on outside.

"I might go for it, you know," Chrissie said sleepily through the darkness, "if Tanya and Geri find out how to ... the Tournament ... you never know, do you?"

"I heard that!" Sian murmured, though loud enough for us to hear, which shut us up immediately. I then rolled over in bed, as a series of dazzling new pictures formed in my mind's eye ... I had miraculously hoodwinked the impartial judge into believing I was seventeen ... I had become the champion for Dragon Mort ... I was standing in the grounds, my arms raised in triumph in front of the whole school, all of whom were applauding and screaming ... I had just won the Triwizard Tournament ... Khan's face stood out particularly clearly in the blurred crowd, his face glowing with admiration ...

I remember at that moment that I grinned like an idiot into my pillow, trying to stifle my giggles, and extremely glad that neither Chrissie nor Sian could see inside my head. My God, what a fool I was! And how ignorant I was of the rather ironic (ironic as I see those thoughts now) dreams that passed through my head back then.

0000

 **A.N.: Thanks to all who are reading this so far. I hope you are enjoying it. There's still lots more to come. Oh, and thank you to Laterose Wildlough for favouriting & following my work. It's much appreciated. Thank you.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

 **Crazy-Head Grumpy**

 **SIAN**

It was Sunday evening. Five minutes to eight, to be precise, and the evening before term officially started. Sian was making her way to her mother's office, because she had something to discuss with her. It was unusual for Sian to visit her mother this early on when she had just come back to school, but she just couldn't wait to talk to her. She walked up to the glass elevator on the second floor, put one token into the slot where the token compartment was, and once she had done that, Sian stepped inside once the elevator doo had opened and, once the door had closed, she spoke loud and clearly, "One to take to the Headmistress' office, please." As the door locked, metal hooks fell down from the ceiling to grab on to, but Sian didn't need them, for she was comfortable enough with the ride by now to resort to those things, as the elevator shot off like a rocket, going practically all over the school, until it reached the door to the headmistress' office. Sian stepped out when the door unlocked and opened, and as the elevator sped off again, Sian knocked on the door in a business-like fashion.

"Enter," said her mother's soft voice, and after she had smiled softly and let out a small sigh, Sian entered the office, which was just the same as it always was: Kenna the phoenix was asleep on her perch by the door; interesting silver instruments were stood on tables, puffing smoke and whirring away as always; the drawings she and her siblings had sent their mother over the years were still stuck on a wall, and the portraits of all the previous headmasters and headmistresses of Dragon Mort, which lined the large, circular room, were sleeping peacefully, for which Sian was glad of, for she did not want an audience to witness what she wanted to talk to her mother about.

And speaking of her mother, when Crighton saw Sian, she smiled widely, her emerald eyes sparkling brightly, as she stood up and walked around her desk to embrace her daughter, who wore robes of forest green, which clashed well with her emerald eyes.

"Sian, my darling," said Crighton, after she had let go of her daughter and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "How are you?"

"Not bad. And yourself, Ma?"

"Oh, same old, same old," said Crighton, and both mother and daughter laughed at this. This was what Sian liked the most about her mother; that no matter what was on her mind, her mother was always warm and willing to listen, was very easy to talk to, and was also good at cheering her up, just as Sian would do if her mother was upset by something.

"So, my darling," Crighton said, cutting straight to it, "to what do I owe this early pleasure? For I do not normally see you this early on when you've just come back from your summer holidays ..."

Sian's smile faded, and she turned away from her mother. Not scared, just nervous, and she didn't know where to begin.

Sian seemed to sense that her mother was worried about her, and was proven right a few moments later, when Crighton stepped to her side, lifted her chin up to face her, brushed from of the hair from Sian's face and said, "Come, Sian. What's troubling you?"

Sian knew it would be useless to lie to her mother, so she took a deep breath, and said, "I'm scared, Ma."

"About what, my darling?"

"About the guests that are coming and how they will act if any of them find out about my ... condition," she finished slowly, turning her face away and rubbing her gloved hands rather nervously.

Sian didn't want to face her mother, for she didn't want to see the look on her mother's face when she told her that she was a child and should grow up. But she was mistaken, for instead her mother said reassuringly, "Sian, you've made amazing progress over the last few years you've been here. You haven't hurt anyone with your unusual branch of magic - " (Sian shivered at this) " - and besides, remember what your father and I have taught you when you are not wearing the gloves and when things get too much for you: _"Conceal - "_ "

" _" - don't feel, don't let them know."_ I _know_ , Ma," Sian snapped. "But these people are from different places, whose tastes and customs are different than our own; and I'm afraid that if they find out what I can do that they will reject me and not accept me ... and I don't think I could live with that," Sian finished, a slight tremor in her voice.

The next thing Sian knew, her mother's arms were around her, and before she could control herself, Sian was sobbing convulsively into her mother's chest, as Crighton stroked her hair comfortingly. When Sian had composed herself, Crighton stepped back enough away from her daughter to look at her, but not too far to lose touch, and said, "Now then, Sian, listen to me. I know that you're afraid, and it's understandable, but there will be _someone_ out there who will soon come into your life and will shake your whole world around, and you will accept him and he will accept you - "

"Humph!" Sian snorted, turning her face away resentfully. "No one will love me. I'm too cold-hearted, remember?" Sure, Sian wanted to love someone, and find someone who truly loved her, but she thought that it was just a dream, and that she would grow old and die alone.

Sian felt her mother smiling slightly behind her back, like she was trying to hide a laugh, before she said, "You _will_ find him, Sian. Whether you like it or not, he will come to you." And even though it was reassuring to Sian the words her mother told her, she was still firm in her belief that it was impossible for her to find someone to love her.

After a few moments of silence, Crighton said, "Actually, Sian, I am glad that you are here."

Sian, glad that her mother had changed the subject, turned round to face her mother and said, "Really, Ma? Why?"

"Well, not only is your presence welcome to me, but I have a job for you, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel and Merida."

"What sort of job, Ma?" asked Sian, interested now in what her mother wanted she and her sisters to do. She then listened carefully, as her mother explained to what she wanted she and her sisters to prepare for when the guests arrived. She didn't know exactly what they were going to do, but ideas were already starting to swim around Sian's head.

" ... and remember, Sian, this must be done for the night our guests arrive," Crighton finished.

"It will be done, Ma," Sian said. Crighton nodded her head in approval as Sian said, "Ma, are we still working for the Oracle?"

"Yes, my daughter. He's not done with you yet, you know."

Sian was glad to hear this, for she was pleased that the Oracle still relied on she and her sisters for help. After a few more words with her mother, Sian bid her goodnight and left, wanting to get a good night's sleep, so that she would be well-rested for her lessons the next day.

0000

 **KIARA**

By Monday morning, the rain had finally stopped, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy; heavy clouds of pewter grey swirled overhead as Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I examined our new timetables at breakfast. A few seats along, Tanya, Geri and Leah Jones were discussing magical methods of ageing themselves and bluffing their way into the Triwizard Tournament.

"Today's not bad ... outside all morning," said Chrissie, who ran his finger down the Monday column of her timetable, "Herbology with the Badger-Stripes and Care of Magical Creatures ... damn it, we're still with the Snake-Eyes."

"Double Divination this afternoon," I groaned, looking down. Back then, Divination was my least favourite subject, next to Potions. Professor Crystals was always predicting my death, which I always found extremely annoying.

"You should have given it up like me, then, shouldn't you?" said Sian briskly, buttering herself some toast. "Then you'd be doing something sensible like Ancient Runes."

"Or Arithmancy," Chris added.

"You're eating normally again, I notice," said Chrissie, who was watching her sister add liberal amounts of marmalade to her buttered toast.

"I've decided there are better ways of making a stand about elf rights," said Sian haughtily.

"Yeah ... and you were quite hungry," said Chrissie, grinning.

There was a sudden noise above us and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows, carrying the morning mail. Instinctively, I looked up, but there was no sign of white among the mass of brown and grey. The owls circled the tables, looking for the people to whom their letters and packages were addressed. A large tawny owl soared down to Nikita Bore and deposited a parcel in her lap - Nikita always forgot to pack something. On the other side of the Hall, Dani Malty's eagle owl landed on her shoulder, carrying what looked like her usual supply of sweets and cakes from home. Trying to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in my stomach, I returned to my porridge. I remember how scared I was, thinking that something terrible had happened to Harold and that my parents hadn't got my letter.

My preoccupation lasted all the way across the sodden vegetable patch until we arrived in greenhouse three, but once there I was distracted by Spud, who was showing us the ugliest plants I have ever seen. Indeed, they looked less like plants than thick black giant slugs that were protruding from vertically out of the soil. Each was squirming slightly, and had a number of large, shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid.

"Bubotubers, dudes," Spud told us briskly. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus - "

"The _what_?" said Zara Finn, who sounded revolted.

"Pus, Finn, pus," said Spud, "and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Best wear your dragon-hide gloves, 'cause it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, Bubotuber pus."

Squeezing out the Bubotuber pus was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. As each swelling was popped, a large amount of thick, yellowish-green liquid burst forth, which smelled strongly of petrol. We caught it in the bottles Spud had indicated, and by the end of the lesson we had collected several pints.

"This'll keep Matron happy," said Spud, stoppering the last bottle with a cork. "An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, Bubotuber pus. Should stop students from resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of acne."

"Like poor Emmett Midwood," said Henry Abbott, a Badger-Stripes boy in a hushed voice. "He tried to curse his off."

"I pity that poor, young fool," said Spud, shaking his head. "But Matron did fix his nose back on in the end."

A booming bell echoed from the castle across the wet grounds, signalling the end of the lesson, and the class separated; the Badger-Stripes climbed the stone steps for Transfiguration, and we Lion-Hearts headed for in the other direction, down the sloping lawn towards Mina's small wooden cabin, which stood on the edge of the Black Forest.

Mina was standing outside her hut, one hand around her enormous black boarhound, Gnasher. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at her feet, and Gnasher was whimpering and straining at her collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely. As we drew nearer, an odd shuddering, rattling noise reached our ears, punctuated by what sounded like thousands od woodpeckers tapping on wood, which was followed every so often by a loud, earth-breaking bang, which made the ground shudder and us all jump.

"Mornin'!" Mina said, grinning at Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I. "Be'er wait fer the Snake-Eyes bunch, they won' want ter miss this - Shudder-Ended Crabs!"

"Come again?" said Chris.

Mina pointed down into the crates.

"Ewww!" Larry Brown said in a rather low voice.

"Ewww" just about summed up the Shudder-Ended Crabs, in my opinion. The looked like deformed, shell-less crabs, horribly pale and slimy looking, with many legs that never ceased to move, which explained the tapping noises, and they had no visible heads. There were about a hundred of them in each crate, about six inches long and crawling over each other, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes, and there were no pincers coming out wither side of it, apart from at the back of their bodies, where there was a large pincer, about two sizes wider than its body, which didn't make any snapping noises with it - in fact, I don't think the Crabs could move the pincer properly at all, for it was pure muscle; every now and then would come crashing down upon each other or the crate. The Shudder-Ended Crabs must have been made of very strong stuff, for they didn't harm each other, but with each bang, they did jump forward a few inches.

"On'y jus' hatched," said Mina proudly, "so yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yerselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it!"

"And why would we want to raise them?" said a cold voice.

The Snake-Eyes lot had arrived. The speaker was Dani Malty. Crate, Gabber and Rae-Bradley all chuckled appreciatively at her words, though I thought I saw something close to the feeling of being uncomfortable flash quickly in Rae-Bradley's eyes.

Mina looked stumped at the question.

"I think what my cousin is trying to say is, what do they _do_?" asked Rae-Bradley. "What is the _point_ of them?"

Mina opened her mouth, apparently thinking hard; there was a few seconds' pause, then she said roughly, "Tha's next lesson, you two. Yer jus' feedin' 'em today. Now, yeh'll wan' ter try 'em on a few diff'rent things. I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go fer - I got ant eggs an' frog livers an' a bit o' grass snake - jus' try 'em out with a bit of each."

"First pus and now this," muttered Zara.

Nothing but deep affection for Mina could have made Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I pick up squelchy handfuls of frog liver and lower them into the crates to tempt the Shudder-Ended Crabs. I couldn't suppress the suspicion that the whole thing was entirely pointless, because the Crabs didn't seem to have mouths.

 _"Ouch!"_ yelled Dena Wright, after about ten minutes. "It got me!"

Mina hurried over to her, looking anxious.

"Its great, shuddering pincer banged down on my hand!" said Dena angrily, showing Mina her hand which began to swell with bruising.

"Ah, yeah, that can happen when they start shuddering their pincers," said Mina, nodding. She then looked at Dena's hand, which was progressing with its swelling. "Off ter the hospital wing with yeh, then, Dena, there's a good girl." Dena hurried off without a backwards glance.

"Eww!" said Larry Brown again. "Eww, Mina, what's that pointed curved thing at the back on it?"

"Ah, some of 'em have horns," said Mina enthusiastically (I quickly withdrew my hand from the box). "I reckon they're the males ... the females have got sorta claws on their bellies ... I think they might be a sorta defensive mechanism."

"Well, I can certainly see why we're trying to keep them alive," said Malty sarcastically. "Who wouldn't want pets that can crush, slice and cut you open all at once?"

"Just because they're not very pretty doesn't mean they're not useful," Sian snapped. "Dragon blood's amazingly magical, isn't it, but you wouldn't want a dragon for a pet, would you?"

Chris, Chrissie and I grinned at Mina, who gave us a furtive smile. Mina would have like nothing better than a pet dragon, as Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I knew only too well - she had owned one for a brief period of time during our first year, a vicious Norwegian Ridgeback by the name of Norberta. Mina simply love monstrous creatures - the more lethal, the better in her eyes.

"Well, at least the Crabs are small," said Chrissie, as we all made our way back up to the castle for lunch an hour later.

"They are now," said Sian in an exasperated voice, "but once Mina's figured out what they eat, I expect they'll be six feet long."

"Well, that won't matter if they turn out to cure sickness or something, will it?" said Chrissie, grinning slyly at her.

"You know as well as I do that I only said that to shut Malty and Rae-Bradley up," said Sian. "As a matter of fact, I think they're right. The best thing to do would be to stamp on the lot of them before they start attacking us all."

We sat down at the Lion-Heart table and helped ourselves to pork chops and potatoes. Sian began to eat so fast that Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I stared at her.

"Er - is this a new stand on elf rights?" said Chris. "You're going to make yourself puke instead?"

"No," said Sian, with as much dignity as she could muster, seeing as her mouth was bulging with potatoes. "I just want to get to the library."

 _"What?"_ said Chrissie in disbelief. "Sian - it's the first proper day back! We haven't even got homework yet!"

Sian shrugged and continued to shovel down her food as though she had not eaten in days. Then she leapt to her feet, and before she left, turned to Chrissie and said, "Oh, can you, Beth, Kestrel and Merida meet me in the library before lessons start this afternoon?"

"Why?" Chrissie asked, looking at Sian curiously. "You're not going to get us joining in with your elf rights thing, are you?"

Sian shook her head and said, "No, this is something completely different that Ma wants us to do. So, will you get them and come?" Chrissie thought for a few moments before she nodded. "Great!" Sian said to her, before turning to Chris and I, and saying, "See you at dinner!" and departed at high speed.

During lunch, Chrissie left with Beth, Kestrel and Merida to find Sian in the library, which meant that Chris and I were left all alone. It was nice, us talking without Sian and Chrissie's bickering, and the quiet and peace that passed between us during that time was so unreal, that it felt like Chris and I were in a dream - that is, until the bell rang like an annoying alarm clock which woke us up and brought us back to reality. So it was with great regret that Chris and I split up for class; he for Arithmancy, and I to the North Tower for Divination, which was at the top of a highly spiralling staircase, where a silver stepladder led to a circular trapdoor in the ceiling, and the room where Professor Crystals lived. I saw Chrissie at the top of the staircase waiting for me, looking very happy and rather excited about something, which I'm guessing is what Sian had spoken to her, Beth, Kestrel and Merida about. When I tried to ask Chrissie what it was, she said that she couldn't tell me, and that I and the rest of the school would find out when Beauxbatons and Uagadou would arrive, and that we would all like it. And with that, the topic was silenced, and we proceeded up the stepladder to Professor Crystals' room.

The familiar sweet perfume emanating from the fire met our nostrils as we emerged at the top of the stepladder. As ever, the curtains were all closed; the circular room was bathed in a dim reddish light that was cast by many lamps, which were all draped with scarves and shawls. Chrissie and I walked through the mass of occupied chintz chairs and pouffes that cluttered the room, and we sat down at our same small circular table.

"Good day," said the misty voice of Professor Crystals from right behind me, which made me jump.

A very thin man with enormous glasses that made his eyes appear far too large for his face, Professor Crystals was peering down at me with the tragic expression he always wore whenever he saw me. The usual large amount of beads, chains and bangles gittered upon his person in the firelight.

"You are preoccupied, my dear," he said mournfully to me. "My Inner Eye sees past your brave face to the troubled soul within. And I regret to say that your worries are not baseless. Alas, I see difficult times ahead for you ... most difficult ... I fear that the thing you dread will indeed come to pass ... and perhaps sooner than you think ..."

His voice dropped to almost a whisper. Chrissie rolled her eyes at me, and I looked steadily back. Professor Crystals swept past us and seated himself in a large winged armchair before the fire, facing all of us. Larry Brown and Perry Party, who deeply admired Professor Crystals, were sat on pouffes very close to him.

"My dears, it is time for us to consider the stars," he said. "The movements of the planets and the mysterious portents they reveal only to those who understand and the depths of the celestial dance. Human destiny may be deciphered by the planetary rays, which intermingle ..."

But my thoughts had drifted. The perfumed fire used to always make me feel sleepy and dull-witted, and Professor Crystals' rambling talks on fortune-telling never held me exactly spellbound - though I couldn't help but think about what he had just said to me: "I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass ..."

But Sian was right, I thought irritably, Professor Crystals really was an old fraud. I wasn't dreading anything at all at that moment in time ... well, unless you counted my then-constant fear that my parents had been caught ... but what did Professor Crystals know? I have long since come to the conclusion that his brand of fortune-telling was really no more than lucky guess-work and a spooky manner (sorry, Professor Crystals, but I am entitled to my opinion, and this is my story).

Except of course for the end of last term, when he had made the prediction about Zira rising again ... and Crighton herself had said that she thought that trance had been genuine when I had described it to her ...

 _"Kiara!"_ Chrissie muttered.

"What?"

I looked around; the rest of my class had been staring at me. I sat up straight; I had been almost dozing off, lost in the heat of my thoughts.

"I was saying, my dear, that you were clearly born under the baleful influence of Saturn," said Professor Crystals, a faint note of resentment in his voice at the fact that I had obviously not been paying attention to what he had just said.

"Born under - what, sorry?" I said.

"Saturn, dear, the planet Saturn!" said Professor Crystals, who definitely sounded irritated that I wasn't riveted by this news. "I was saying that Saturn was surely in a position of power in the heavens at the moment of your birth, despite your bright hair ... your dark eyes ... your mean stature ... tragic losses so young in life ... I think I am right in saying, my dear, that you were born in mid-winter."

"No," I said, "I was born in July."

Chrissie hastily turned her laugh into a hacking cough.

Half an hour later, all of us in that room had been given a complicated colour chart, and we were attempting to fill in the position of the planets at our moments of birth. It was dull work, requiring much consultation of timetables and calculation of angles.

"I've got two Neptunes here," I said after a while, frowning down at my piece of parchment, "that can't be right, can it?"

"Aaaah," said Chrissie, imitating Professor Crystals' mystical whisper, "when two Neptunes appear in the sky, it is a sure sign that a golden-haired midget is born, Kiara ..."

Zara and Dena, who were working at a nearby table, sniggered loudly, though not loudly enough to mask the excited voice of Larry Brown - "Oh, Professor, look! I think I've got an unexpected planet! Oooh, which one is that, Professor?"

"It is Uranus, dear," said Professor Crystals, peering down at the chart.

Then Chrissie said something which, funny as it was, was also inappropriate and rather dirty. Professor Crystals was also in hearing when Chrissie said this, and we unfortunately ended up with having so much homework at the end of the class.

"A detailed analysis of the way the planetary movements in the coming month will affect you, with reference to your personal chart," he said, sounding much more like Professor Darbus than his usual, airy-fairy self. "I want it ready to hand in on Monday, and no excuses!"

"Miserable old bat," said Chrissie bitterly, as we joined the crowds that were descending the staircases back to the Great Hall for dinner. "That'll take all weekend, that will ..."

"Lots of homework?" said Sian, as she and Chris caught up with us. "I didn't get any in Ancient Runes, did you, Rickers?"

"None whatsoever, Sian," smiled Chris.

"Thanks for rubbing it in," said Chrissie bluntly.

We had reached the Entrance Hall, which was packed with people queueing for dinner. We had joined the end of the line, when a loud voice rang out behind us.

"Dawsons! Hey, Dawsons!"

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I turned. Malty, Crate, Gabber and Rae-Bradley were standing there, each looking triumphantly pleased about something - apart from Rae-Bradley, who appeared to be uncomfortable.

"What?" said Chrissie shortly.

"Your dad's in the paper, Dawson!" said Malty, brandishing a copy of the _Daily Squabbler_ , and spoke very loudly, so that all of us in the packed Entrance Hall could hear. "Listen to this!"

 _FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC_

 _It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not at an end, writes_ Peter Meter, special correspondent. _Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch Friendly, and still unable to account for the disappearance of some of its wizards, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Marcus Dawson of the Auror Department._

Malty looked up.

"Imagine them not even getting his name right, Dawson, it's almost as though he's a complete nonentity, isn't it?" she crowed.

Everyone in the Entrance Hall was listening. Malty straightened the paper with a flourish, and read on:

 _Marcus Dawson, who was charged with the possession of a flying car two years ago was involved with a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers ("policemen") over a number of highly-aggressive dustbins. Mr Dawson appears to have rushed to the aid of "Crazy-Head" Grumpy, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when she was no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and an attempted murder. Unsurprisingly, Mr Dawson found, upon arrival at Miss Grumpy's heavily guarded house, that Miss Grumpy had once again raised a false alarm. Mr Dawson was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer_ Daily Squabbler _questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene._

"And there's a picture, Dawsons!" said Malty, flipping the paper over and holding it up. "A picture of your dad outside his _fine, grand house_!" Your dad could do with losing a bit of weight, though, couldn't he?"

Chris and Chrissie both shook with fury, so much so that I didn't think they could have spoken even if they'd tried; but Sian, remaining calm (rather surprisingly, I thought), came forth and spoke, like the voice-of-reason that her family knew her to be, said, with her head held high, "Don't you _dare_ insult my family, Malty! This may have escaped your notice, but my mother, my father's wife, is the headmistress of this school! So in the future, I think it would be best if you kept your opinions of my family to yourself, if you know what's good for you!"

Malty looked dumb-founded at this, and I looked rather smugly at her, before I said, "C'mon, Chris, Chrissie ..."

"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Pride-Lander?" Malty sneered, getting quickly over what Sian said to her. "So, tell me, is their father really that fat, or is it just the picture?"

"You know _your father_ , Malty?" I said, as Sian laid her hand on Chrissie's shoulder in order to restrain her. She huffed for a bit before her shoulders slumped, even though her chest still rose and fell rapidly, and Chris' fists shook - "That expression that he's got, like he's got dirt under his nose? Has he always looked like that, or was it just because you were with him?"

Malty's face went slightly pink. "Don't you _dare_ insult my father, Pride-Lander!"

"Now you know how we feel," Sian snarled.

"Yeah, so keep your fat mouth shut," I said, turning away.

BANG!

Several people screamed - I felt something white-hot graze the side of my face - I'd plunged my hand into my robes for my wand, but before I'd even touched it, I heard a second BANG, and a roar which echoed through the Entrance Hall.

"OH, NO YOU DON'T, LASSIE!"

I spun around. Professor Grumpy was limping down the marble staircase. Her wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Malty had been standing.

There was then a terrified silence in the Entrance Hall. Nobody but Grumpy moved a muscle. Grumpy turned to look at me - at least, her normal eyes were looking at me; one of her magical eyes was pointed into the back of her head, as the other three spun round ceaselessly.

"Did she get you?" Grumpy growled. Her voice, though soft, was low and gravelly.

"No," I said. "Missed."

"LEAVE IT!" Grumpy shouted.

"Leave - what?" I said, bewildered.

"Not you - her!" Grumpy growled, jerking her thumb over her shoulder at Rae-Bradley, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. It seemed the Grumpy's rolling eyes were magical and could all see out of the back of her head.

Grumpy started to limp towards Crate, Gabber and Rae-Bradley, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking towards the dungeons.

"I don't think so!" roared Grumpy, pointing her wand at the ferret again - it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upwards once more.

"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back is turned," growled Grumpy, as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do ..."

The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly.

"Never - do - that - again - " said Grumpy, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upwards again.

"Professor Grumpy!" said a shocked voice.

Professor Darbus came down the marble staircase with her arms full of books.

"Hello, Professor Darbus," said Grumpy calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.

"What - what are you doing?" said Professor Darbus, her eyes following the bouncing ferret's progress through the air.

"Teaching," said Grumpy.

"Teach - Grumpy, _is that a student_?" shrieked Professor Darbus, her books spilling out of her arms.

"Yep," said Grumpy.

"No!" cried Professor Darbus, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Dani Malty had re-appeared, lying in a heap on the floor with her sleek blonde hair all over her brilliantly pink face. She got to her feet, wincing.

"Grumpy, we _never_ use Transfiguration as a punishment!" said Professor Darbus weakly. "Surely Professor Crighton told you that?"

"She might've mentioned it, yeah," said Grumpy, shrugging unconcernedly, "but I thought a good, sharp shock - "

"We give detentions, Grumpy! Or speak to the offender's Head of house!"

"I'll do that, then!" said Grumpy, staring at Malty with great dislike.

Malty, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently up at Grumpy, and muttered something in which the words "my mother" were distinguishable.

"Oh, yeah?" said Grumpy quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of her wooden leg echoing around the hall. "Well I know your mother of old, girl ... you tell her Grumpy's keeping a few close eyes on her daughter ... you tell her that from me ... now, your head of house'll be Triphorm, will it?"

"Yes," said Malty resentfully.

"Another old friend," growled Grumpy. "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Triphorm ... come on, you ..." And she seized Malty's upper arm and marched her off towards the dungeons.

Professor Darbus stared anxiously after them for a few moments, then waved her wand at her fallen books, causing them to soar up into the air and back into her arms.

"Don't talk to me," Chrissie said quietly to Chris, Sian and I, as we sat down at the Lion-Heart table a few minutes later, surrounded by excited talk on all sides.

"Why not?" said Sian in surprise.

"Because she obviously wants to fix that moment into her memory for ever, which I don't blame her for," said Chris, as Chrissie closed her eyes and had an uplifted expression on her face as Chris continued, "Dani Malty, the amazing bouncing ferret ..."

We all laughed at this, as Sian began doling tuna bake on to each of our plates.

"She could have really hurt Malty, though," she said. "It was good, really, that Professor Darbus stopped it - "

"Sian!" said Chrissie furiously, her eyes snapping open again, she and Chris glaring at Sian. "You're ruining the best moment of my life!"

"Yes, so please stop!" Chris snapped.

Sian made an impatient noise and began to eat at top speed again.

"Don't tell me you're going back to the library again?" I said, watching her.

"Got to," Sian said thickly. "Loads to do."

"But you told us - "

"It's not schoolwork," she said.

"Beth, Kest, Merry and I will meet you there soon," Chrissie said. Sian nodded at this, and five minutes later she had cleared her plate and departed.

No sooner had she gone than her seat was taken by Tanya Fang. "Grumpy!" she said. "How cool is she?"

"Beyond cool," said Geri, sitting down opposite Tanya.

"Supercool," said the twins' best friend, Leah Jones, who slid into the seat beside Geri. "We had her this afternoon," she told Chris, Chrissie and I.

"What was it like?" I said eagerly.

Tanya, Geri and Leah exchanged looks full of meaning.

"Never had a lesson like it," said Tanya.

"She _knows_ , man," said Leah.

"Knows what?" said Chris, leaning forwards.

"Knows what it's like to be out there doing it," said Geri impressively.

"Doing what?" I said.

"Fighting the Dark Arts," said Tanya.

"She's seen it all," said Geri.

"'Mazing," said Leah.

Chrissie dived into her bag for her timetable.

"We haven't got her 'til Thursday!" she said in a disappointed voice.

0000

 **A.N.: I apologise for the Frozen reference, but it's important to Sian's story and her personal development as a character, so bear that in mind when you read.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

 **The Unforgivable Curses**

 **KIARA**

The next three days passed without incident, unless you count Nikita melting her sixth cauldron in Potions. Professor Triphorm, who seemed to have attained new levels of vindictiveness over the summer, gave Nikita detention, and Nikita returned from it in a state of nervous collapse, having been made to disembowel a barrel-full of horned toads.

"You know why Trihphorm's in such a foul mood, don't you?" Chris said to Chrissie and I, as we watched Sian teach Nikita a Scouring Charm to remove frog guts from under her fingernails.

"Yeah," I said. "Grumpy."

It was common knowledge that Triphorm really wanted the Dark Arts job, and she had failed to get it for the fourth year running. Triphorm had disliked all of our previous Dark Arts teachers, and shown it - but she seemed to be displaying overt animosity to Crazy-Head Grumpy. Indeed, whenever I saw the two of them in together - at meal times, or when they passed in the corridors - I had the distinct impression that Triphorm was avoiding Grumpy's eyes, whether magical or normal.

"I reckon Triphorm's a bit scared of her, you know," I said thoughtfully.

"Imagine if Grumpy turned Triphorm into a horned toad," said Chrissie, as Chris and I started giggling at the thought, "and bounced her all around her dungeon ..."

We Lion-Heart fourth-years were looking forward to Grumpy's first lesson so much that we arrived early after lunch on Thursday and queued up outside her classroom before the bell had even rung.

The only people who were missing were Sian and Chrissie, who turned up just in time for the lesson.

"Been in the - "

"Library?" I asked them, surprised that Chrissie would be in there with Sian, along with Beth, Kestrel and Merida.

"No, not really," said Chrissie. "We'd love to tell you what we're up to, but you'll have to wait for that. Ma's orders, I'm afraid," she finished, shrugging her shoulders. I wondered what was going on, but quickly shrugged it off.

"C'mon, quick, or we won't get decent seats."

We hurried into four chairs right in front of the teacher's desk, took out our copies of _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ , and waited, unusually quiet. Soon we heard Grumpy's distinctive clunking footsteps coming down the corridor, and as she was coming, a distinctive beeping went off somewhere nearby. It turned out the sound came from Sian's pocket and her Scanner, which she quickly pulled out.

"Oh, I don't want to deal with it," she said without looking at it (big mistake!), and she put it on silent, which did silence the beeping, but did not keep it from vibrating (I should point out here, just for the record, that her Scanner always did this whenever Grumpy was nearby for the rest of that year).

Just then, Grumpy entered the room, looking as strange and as frightening as ever. I just saw her clawed, wooden foot protruding from underneath her robes.

"You can put those away," she growled, stumping over to her desk and sitting down, "those books. You won't be needing them."

We returned our books to our bags, Chris and Chrissie both looking excited.

Grumpy took out a register, shook her long mane of grizzled grey hair out of her twisted and scarred face and began to call out our names, her normal eyes moving steadily down the list, while one of her magical eyes swivelled around, fixing upon each student as he or she answered, as her other eyes moved ceaselessly all around.

"Right, then," she said, when the last person had declared themselves present, "I've had a letter from Professor Meers about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in teaching Dark creatures - you've covered Boggarts, Red Caps, Hinkypunks, Grindylows, Kappas and werewolves, correct?"

There was a general murmur of assent.

"But you're behind - very behind - on dealing with curses," said Grumpy. "So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark - "

"What, aren't you staying?" Chrissie blurted out.

Grumpy's magical eyes spun around to stare at Chrissie; Chrissie looked extremely apprehensive, but after a moment, Grumpy smiled - the first time I had seen her do so. The effect was to make her heavily scarred face look more twisted and contorted than ever, but it was nevertheless a relief to know that she ever did anything as friendly as smile. Chrissie looked deeply relieved.

"You'll be Matthew Dawson's second child, eh?" Grumpy said. "Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago ... yeah, I'm staying just the one year. Special favour to your mother ... one year, and then I'm back to my quiet retirement."

She gave a harsh laugh, and then clapped her gnarled hands together.

"So - straight to it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you counter-curses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it 'til then. But Professor Crighton's got a higher opinion of your nerves; she reckons you can cope, and I say the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourselves against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's going to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to know what you're up against. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away, Mr Brown, when I'm talking."

Larry jumped and flushed deeply. He had been showing Perry his completed horoscope under the desk. Apparently Grumpy's magical eyes could see through solid wood, as well as out of the back of her head.

"So ... do any of you know which curses are heavily punished by wizarding law?"

Several hands rose tentatively into the air, including Chris, Sian and Chrissie's. Grumpy pointed at Chrissie, though one of her magical eyes was still focused on Larry.

"Er," said Chrissie tentatively, "my dad did tell me about one ... is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?"

"Ah, yes," said Grumpy appreciatively. "Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse."

Grumpy got heavily to her mismatched feet, opened her desk drawer and took out a glass jar. Three large, black spiders were scuttling around inside it. I felt Chrissie recoil slightly next to me - Chrissie hated spiders.

Grumpy reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders and held it in the palm of her hand so that we could all see it.

She then pointed her wand at it, and muttered, _"Imperio!"_

The spider leapt from Grumpy's hand on a fine thread of silk, and began to swing backwards and forwards as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs rigidly, then did a backflip, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it began to cartwheel in circles. Grumpy jerked her wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakeably a tap dance.

All of us were laughing - all of us, except Grumpy.

"Think it's funny, do you?" she growled. "You'd like it, would you, if I did that to you?"

Our laughter died away almost instantly.

"Total control," said Grumpy quietly, as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats ..."

Chrissie gave an involuntary shudder.

"Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse," said Grumpy, and I knew she was talking about the days when Zira - and also Voldemort - had been all-powerful. "Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will.

"The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it, if you can. CONSTANT VIGILENCE!" she barked, and we all jumped.

Grumpy picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar. "Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"

Sian's hand flew into the air again and so, to my slight surprise, did Nikita's. The only class in which Nikita usually volunteered information was Herbology, which was easily her best subject. Nikita looked surprised at her own daring.

"Yes?" Grumpy said, one of her magical eyes rolling right over to focus on Nikita.

"There's one - the Cruciatus Curse," said Nikita, in a small but distinct voice.

Grumpy was looking very intently at Nikita, this time with all six eyes.

"Your name's Bore?" she said, one of her magical eyes sweeping down to check the register again, as the other three swivelled around, each in a different direction to the other.

Nikita nodded nervously, but Grumpy made no further enquiries. Turning back to the rest of us in the class, as she reached into the jar for the next spider and placed it upon the desktop, where it remained motionless, apparently too scared to move.

"The Cruciatus Curse," said Grumpy. "Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea," she said, pointing her wand at the spider. _"Engorgio!"_

The spider swelled. It was now larger than a tarantula. Abandoning all pretence, Chrissie pushed her chair backwards, as far away from Grumpy's desk as possible.

Grumpy then raised her wand again, pointed it at the spider and muttered, _"Crucio!"_

At once, the spider's legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound came from it, but I was sure that if it had been given a voice, it would have been screaming. Grumpy did not remove her wand, and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently -

"Stop it!" Sian said shrilly.

I looked around at her. Sian was looking, not at the spider, but at Nikita, and as I followed Sian's gaze, I saw that Nikita's hands were clenched upon the desk in front of her; her knuckles were white, and her eyes were wide and horrified.

Grumpy raised her wand. The spider's legs relaxed, but it continued to twitch.

 _"Reducio,"_ Grumpy muttered, and the spider shrunk back to its proper size. She put it back in the jar.

"Pain," said Grumpy softly. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse ... that one was very popular, too.

"Right ... anyone know any others?"

I looked around. From the looks on everyone's faces, I guessed they were all wondering what was going to happen to the last spider. Sian's hand shook slightly as, for the third time, she raised it in the air.

"Yes?" said Grumpy, looking at her.

 _"Avada Kedavra,"_ Sian whispered, after a few shaky breaths.

Several people looked uneasily around at her, Chris and Chrissie included.

"Ah," said Grumpy, another slight smile twisting her lop-sided mouth. "Yes, the last and the worst. _Avada Kedavra_ ... the Killing Curse."

She put her hand into the glass jar, and almost as though it knew what was coming, the third spider scuttled frantically around the bottom of the jar, trying to evade Grumpy's fingers, but she trapped it, and placed it upon the desktop. It started to scuttle frantically across the wooden surface.

Grumpy raised her wand, and I felt a sudden thrill of foreboding.

 _"Avada Kedavra!"_ Grumpy roared.

There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible something soared through the air - instantaneously, the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakeably dead. Several of the girls stifled cries; Chrissie threw herself backwards and almost toppled off her seat as the spider skidded towards her.

Grumpy swept the dead spider off the desk onto the floor.

"Not nice," she said calmly. "Not pleasant. And there's no counter-curse. There's no blocking it. Only two people are known to have ever survived it. One of them is, of course, Harry Potter, and the other is sitting right in front of me."

I remember how my face reddened as Grumpy's eyes (all six of them) looked into my own. I felt everyone else looking around at me, too. I stared at the blank blackboard as though fascinated by it, but not really seeing it at all ...

So, that was how Harry's parents had died ... and how mine could have died too, I thought to myself at this point. I wondered that if they had died, that would they have been unblemished and unmarked, too? I wondered if they had simply seen the flash of green light and heard the rush of speeding death, before life was wiped from their bodies. Of course, I was just wondering all this stuff, because as you all know, up until that point in my life, I had not seen someone die, but we'll get to that.

Anyhoo, I had been picturing how things could have gone, had Zira succeeded in killing myself and my parents for three years, ever since I had found out that I had been taken from my parents for my own safety: how the Absters had betrayed my parents to Zira, because of my brother, Kopa, and how she had proceeded to torture him until he couldn't move when he was just a small boy; and how she had got two of her followers to take him away from the Pride-Lands and leave him somewhere to die, just so Zira could get to my parents, and try to get them on her side. How my parents had refused Zira, and how she had seen my father touch my mother's stomach, for she was pregnant at the time with me, of course. How Zira had come back almost a year after I was born and tried to kill me in broad daylight ... and how distraught my parents were when they found out what happened to me ...

I knew these details because I heard my parents' voices when I had fought the Stingers in my third year - for that was the terrible power of the Stinger: to force their victim to relive the worst memories of their life, and drown, powerless, in their own despair ...

Grumpy was speaking again, from a great distance, it seemed to me. With a massive effort, I pulled myself back to the present, and listened to what Grumpy was saying.

"Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it - you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nose-bleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it.

"Now, if there's no counter-curse, why am I showing you? _Because you've got to know._ You've got to appreciate what the worst is. You don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" she roared, ad we all jumped again.

"Now ... those three curses - Avada Kedavra, Imperius and Cruciatus - are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That's what you're up against. That's what I've got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming, but above all, you need to practice _constant, never-ceasing vicgilance_. Get out your quills ... copy this down ..."

We spent the rest of the lesson taking notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses. None of us spoke until the bell rang - but when Grumpy had dismissed us and we had all left the classroom, a torrent of talk burst forth. Most people were discussing the curses in awed voices - "Did you see it twitch?" - "and when she killed it - just like that!"

They were talking about the lesson, I thought, as though it had been some sort of spectacular show, but I hadn't found it very amusing - and nor, it seemed, did Sian.

"Hurry up," she said tensely to Chris, Chrissie and I.

"Not the ruddy library again?" said Chris.

"No," said Sian curtly, pointing up a side passage. "Nikita."

Nikita was standing alone, halfway up the passage, staring at the stone wall opposite her with the same horrified, wide-eyed look she had worn when Grumpy had demonstrated the Cruciatus Curse.

"Nikita?" Sian said gently.

Nikita looked around.

"Oh, hello," she said, her voice much higher than usual. "Interesting lesson, wasn't it? I wonder what's for dinner, I'm - I'm starving, aren't you?"

"Nikita, are you all right?" said Sian.

"Oh, yes, I'm fine," Nikita gabbled, in the same unnaturally high voice. "Very interesting dinner - I mean, lesson - what's for eating?"

Chris, Chrissie and I stared at Nikita, stunned.

"Nikita, what - ?"

But an odd, clunking noise sounded behind us, and we turned to see Professor Grumpy limping towards us. The five of us fell silent, watching her apprehensively, but when she spoke, it was in a much lower and gentler growl than we had yet heard.

"It's all right, girl," she said to Nikita. "Why don't you come up to my office? Come on ... we can have a cup of tea ..."

Nikita looked even more frightened at the prospect of tea with Grumpy. She neither moved nor spoke.

Grumpy turned one of her magical eyes on me. "You all right, Pride-Lander?"

"Yes," I said, almost defiantly.

The magical eye of Grumpy's that was looking at me as well as the others all quivered slightly, as the other three eyes that weren't looking at me, then did turn to look at me (if that makes sense to anyone).

Then she said, "You've got to know. I know it sounds harsh, maybe, _but you've got to know_. No pint pretending ... well ... come on, Bore, I've got some books that might interest you."

Nikita looked pleadingly at Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I, but we didn't say anything, so Nikita had no choice but to allow herself to be steered away, one of Grumpy's gnarled hands on her shoulder.

"What was that about?" said Chrissie, watching Nikita and Grumpy turn the corner.

"I don't know," said Sian, looking pensive.

"Some lesson, though, eh?" said Chrissie to me, as we set off for the Great Hall. "Tanya and Geri were right though, weren't they? She really knows her stuff, Grumpy, doesn't she? When she did Avada Kedavra, the way the spider just _died_ , just snuffed it right - "

I was fortunate enough at Chris, who had remained silent during this time, seemed to sense what I was thinking rather than taking a look at my face, chose that moment to turn to Chrissie and said, "Knock it off, Chrissie." Chrissie looked at him, confused, but when Chris nodded at me, and Chrissie looked at me and saw the expression on my face, she thankfully shut up. I smiled my thanks to Chris, who in turn acknowledged my gratitude to him by nodding, as we carried on walking to the Great Hall.

Once we were there, Chrissie then chose to speak up again, saying that she had to put off whatever she, Sian, Beth, Kest and Merry were working on, seeing as she and I had our Divination homework to do. Sian agreed without arguing, but said that they would have to work extra hard on Saturday, seeing as it was the weekend. Chrissie groaned, but agreed, somewhat reluctantly. Sian nodded her head curtly, before wolfing down her food again and rushing off to the library. Chrissie and I were discussing the Divination homework we had to do, for we were sure that it would take hours to do. Chris didn't talk at all during dinner, but sat eating rather slowly, waiting for us to finish.

When Chris, Chrissie and I left a little while later for Lion-Heart Tower, I had been thinking of nothing else but the Unforgivable Curses over dinner (and on the way to Lion-Heart Tower), despite the fact that I had been discussing Divination homework with Chrissie, so I decided to bring the subject of the Curses up myself.

"Wouldn't Grumpy and Crighton be in trouble with the Ministry if they knew we'd seen the Curses?" I asked, as we approached the Fat Lord.

"Yeah, probably," said Chris, speaking up for the first time since he had told Chrissie to shut up (in a matter of speaking). "But Ma's always done things her way, hasn't she, and Grumpy's been getting into trouble for years, I reckon. Attacks first and asks questins later - look at her dustbins. Balderdash."

The Fat Lord swung forwards to reveal the entrance hole, and we climbed into the Lion-Heart common room, which was crowded and noisy.

"Shall we get our Divination stuff, then?" I said to Chrissie.

"I s'pose," Chrissie sighed.

As we were about to cross to the dormitories, I stopped Chris and Chrissie and nodded to one of the chairs by the fire, in which Nikita sat. She looked a good deal calmer than she did at the end of Grumpy's lesson, though still not entirely normal. Her eyes were still rather red, and she was reading, for the book was over her face.

Chris, Chrissie and I stepped closer to Nikita. When we were close enough for her to hear us, I said, "You all right, Nikita?"

Nikita looked up at us, smiled and said, "Oh, yes, I'm fine, thanks. Just reading this book Professor Grumpy lent me ..."

She stuck her thumb in the page she was reading, closed the book gently on her thumb, and held it up so that we could read the title: _Magical Mediterranean Water-Plants and their Properties_.

"Apparently, Spud told Professor Grumpy I'm really good at Herbology," Nikita said. There was a faint note of pride in her voice that I had rarely heard there before. "She thought I'd like this."

Telling Nikita what Spud had said, I thought, was a very tactful way of cheering Nikita up, for Nikita rarely heard that she was good at anything. It was the sort of thing my dear old friend Professor Meers would have done.

Chris then found us a table and told Chrissie and I that he'd save it for our use. We thanked him and went to get some ink, quills, parchment and our copies of _Unfogging the Future_ and went back down to the common room and joined Chris, where we set to work on our predictions for the coming month. An hour after we had first sat down, Chrissie and I had made little progress, though our table was littered with bits of parchment bearing sums and symbols, and I remember my brain being as foggy as though it had been filled with the fumes from Professor Crystals' fire. Actually, just thinking about this scene even now is making me tired, just as if I were back in that class, nodding off by the window on a warm summer's day from the overwhelming fumes of the fire. Anyhoo, I noticed that Chris was staring at me with a strange look in his eyes. I knew he was fond of me in a brotherly way, it was true; but there was something more in his eyes from how he was looking at me.

"I haven't got a clue what any of this lot's supposed to mean," Chrissie said, staring down at a long list of calculations, which brought me back to the present, and away from my confusing thoughts of Chris.

"You know," I said, rubbing my eyes in frustration, "I think it best if we revert back to the old Divination standby."

"What - make it up?"

"Yeah, why not?" I asked, shrugging. Chrissie quickly picked up on this idea, sweeping the jumbled scrawl of notes off the table, dipped her pen into some ink and started to write.

"Next Monday," she said, as she scribbled, "I am likely to develop a cough, owing to the unlucky conjunction of Mars and Jupiter." She looked up at me. "You know him - just put in loads of misery, he'll lap it all up."

"Right," I said, as Chris laughed, and I crumpled up my first attempt and threw it over the heads of a group of chattering first years into the fire. "OK ... on Monday, I will be in danger of - er - a sprained wrist."

"Yeah, you will be," said Chris darkly, "we're with the Crabs again on Monday."

"That's true," said Chrissie. "OK, Tuesday, _I'll_ ... erm ..."

"Lose a treasured possession," I said, whilst flickering through _Unfogging the Future_ for ideas.

"Good one," said Chrissie, copying it down. "Because of ... erm ... Mercury. Why don't you get stabbed in the back by someone you thought was a friend?"

"Yeah ... cool ..." I said, scribbling it down, "because ... Venus is in the twelfth house."

"And on Wednesday, I think I'll come off worse in a fight."

"Aaah, I was going to have a fight. OK, I'll lose a bet."

"Yeah, you're betting I'll win my fight ..."

We continued to make up predictions (which grew steadily more tragic) for another hour, while the common room around us slowly emptied, as people went up to bed. Lucifer wandered over to us, leapt lightly into an empty chair and stared inscrutably at me, rather like Sian would have looked if she knew we weren't doing our homework properly.

As I stared around the room, trying to think of a kind of misfortune I hadn't yet used, I saw Tanya and Geri sitting together against the opposite wall, heads together and quills out, poring over a single piece of parchment. It was most unusual to see Tanya and Geri hidden away in a corner and working secretly; they usually liked to be in the thick of things, and the noisy centre of attention. There was something secretive about the way they were working on the piece of parchment, and I was reminded of how they had sat together writing something back at Dawson Manor. I had thought then that it was another order form for _Fangs' Friendly Funnies_ , but it didn't look like that this time; if it had been, they would have surely let Leah Jones in on the joke. I wondered whether it had anything to do with the Triwizard Tournament.

As I watched, Geri shook her head at Tanya, scratched something out with her quill and said, in a very low voice, that nevertheless carried across the almost deserted room, "No - that sounds like we're accusing her. Got to be careful ..."

Then Geri looked over and saw that I was watching her. I grinned, and quickly returned to my predictions - I did not want Geri to think that I was eavesdropping. Shortly after that, the twins rolled up their parchment, said goodnight to us and went off to bed.

Tanya and Geri had been gone ten minutes or so when the portrait hole opened and Sian climbed through it into the common room, carrying a sheaf of parchment in one hand and a box whose contents rattled as she walked, in the other. Lucifer arched his back, purring.

"Hello," she said. "I've just finished."

"So have these two," said Chris, as Chrissie threw down her quill triumphantly.

Sian sat down, laid the things she was carrying in an empty armchair and pulled Chrissie's predictions towards her.

"Not going to have a very good month, are you?" she said sardonically, as Lucifer curled up in her lap.

"Ah well, at least I'm forewarned," Chrissie yawned.

"You seem to be drowning twice," said Sian.

"Oh, am I?" said Chrissie, peering down at her predictions. "I'd better change one of them to ... erm ..."

"Getting trampled by a rampaging Hippogriff?" Chris suggested.

Sian turned her head to her brother, looking shocked at what he just said. Chris didn't seem to mind, though, for his eyes twinkled mischievously, as Chrissie said, "Thanks, Chris, that's a good one!" and scribbled it down enthusiastically. Sian looked at Chris disapprovingly, but he just shrugged his shoulders unconcernedly.

Sian then sighed, before she turned to Chrissie and said, "Don't you think it's a bit obvious you've made these up?"

"How dare you!" said Chrissie, in mock outrage. "Kiara and I have been working like house-elves here!"

Sian raised her eyebrows.

"It's just an expression," said Chrissie hastily.

I laid down my quill, too, having just finished predicting my own death by decapitation.

"What's in the box?" I asked, pointing at it.

"Glad you asked," said Sian, with a nasty look at Chrissie. She took off the lid and showed us the contents.

Inside were about fifty badges, all different colours, but all of them bearing the same letters: H.A.M.E.

" "Hame"?" I said, picking up a badge and looking at it. "What's this about?"

"Not _hame_ ," said Sian impatiently. "It's H-A-M-E. Stands for Help All Mistreated Elves."

"Never heard of it," said Chris.

"Of _course_ you haven't," said Sian briskly, "I've only just started it."

"Yeah?" said Chrissie, in mild surprise. "How many members have you got?"

"Well - if you three join - four," said Sian.

"And you think we want to walk around wearing badges saying "hame" do you?" said Chrissie.

"H-A-M-E!" said Sian hotly. "I was going to put Let's Make Lives Better for All House-Elves Everywhere Who Work in Squalor - but it wouldn't fit. So that's the heading of our manifesto."

She brandished the sheaf of parchment at us. "I've been researching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes back centuries, and it's been brought to the surface in recent years by Hermione Weasley, but there is still much work to be done."

"All right - I'll admit, some of them do need help," said Chris, but not all of them - "

"I know that, Chris," Sian interrupted him, "and that's the whole point. If house-elves are happy where they are, then I won't interfere. But in those rare cases like Dokey's, who have been mistreated - or have been mistreated without even realising they're being mistreated - " (obviously referencing Blinky here) " - only then shall we interfere to change their lives and help them get better jobs and lives. These are our-short-term aims. Our long-term aims are going to continue to helping house-elves making their voices heard for their people in the Ministry of Magic."

"And how do we do this?" I asked.

"we start by recruiting members," said Sian happily. "I thought two Sickles to join - that buys a badge - and the proceeds can fund our leaflet campaign. Chrissie, you're treasurer - I've got a collecting tin upstairs - and Kiara, you're secretary, so you might want to write down everything I'm saying now, as a record of our first meeting. Oh, and Chris, you'll be helping me with some advertising, for I'm hoping that when word gets around of what we're doing, I'm thinking that we could get a petition sorted and send it off to the Ministry at some point, and hopefully get a charity sorted to make sure that house-elves get more help with the funds we get."

There was a pause in which Sian beamed at the three of us, and I sat, torn between exasperation at Sian, and amusement at the looks on Chris and Chrissie's faces. The silence was then broken, not by Chris or Chrissie, who in any case both looked like they were temporarily dumbstruck, but by a soft tap, tap on the window. I looked across the now empty common room, and saw, illuminated by the moonlight, a snowy owl perched on the window sill.

"Harold!" I shouted, and I launched myself out of my chair and across the room to open the window.

Harold flew inside, soared across the room and landed on the table on top f my predictions.

"About time!" I said, hurrying after him.

"He's got an answer!" said Chrissie excitedly, pointing at the grubby piece of parchment that was tied to Harold's leg.

I hastily untied it and sat down to read it, whereupon Harold fluttered onto my knee, hooting softly.

"What does it say?" Sian asked breathlessly.

"Read it! Read it!" Chris said excitedly.

The letter was very short, and looked as though it had been scribbled in a great hurry. I read it aloud:

 _Kiara -_

 _Your mother and I are flying north immediately. This news about your scar is the latest in a series of strange rumours that have reached us here. If it hurts again, go straight to Crighton - they're saying she's got Crazy-Head out of retirement, which means she's reading the signs, even if no one else is._

 _We'll be in touch soon. Our best to Chris, Sian and Chrissie. Keeps your eyes open, Kiara. Oh, and your mother sends her love, too._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Daddy and Mum_

I looked up at Chris, Sian and Chrissie, who stared back at me.

"They're flying north?" Sian whispered. "They're coming back?"

"Ma's reading the signs?" said Chrissie, looking perplexed. "Kiara - what's up?"

For I had just hit myself on the forehead with my fist, jolting Harold out of my lap.

"I shouldn't've told them!" I said furiously.

"What are you on about?" said Chris, in surprise.

"It's made them think they've got to come back!" I said, slamming my fist on the table so that Harold landed on the back of Chris' chair, hooting indignantly. "Coming back, because they think I'm in trouble! And there's nothing wrong with me! And I haven't got anything for you," I snapped at Harold, who was clicking his beak impatiently, "you'll have to go to the Owlery if you want food."

Harold gave me an extremely offended look and took off for the open window, cuffing me around the head with his outstretched wing as he went.

"Kiara," Sian began, in a pacifying sort of way.

"I'm going to be," I said shortly. "I'll see you in the morning."

Once I was upstairs in the dormitory, I pulled on my pyjamas and got into my four-poster bed, but I didn't feel remotely tired.

I remember how much I blamed and hated myself, for if my parents came back and got caught, then it would be all my fault. Why couldn't I have just keep my mouth shut? A few second's pain and I'd had to blab ... if I'd just had the sense to keep it to myself ...

I heard Sian and Chrissie come up into the dormitory a short while later, but they did not speak to me. For a long time, I lay staring up at the dark canopy of my bed. The dormitory was completely silent, and not a sound came from outside; so I was left alone in the darkness, with not a sound to distract me from my own thoughts, which I was with for a long while before I finally drifted into unconsciousness.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

 **Beaubatons and Uagadou**

 **KIARA**

Early the next morning, I awoke with a plan fully formed in my mind, as though my sleeping brain had been working on it all night. I got up, dressed in the pale dawn light, left the dormitory without waking Sian, Chrissie or any of the others and went down to the deserted common room. Once there I took a piece of parchment from the table where my Divination homework still lay, and wrote the following letter:

 _Dear Daddy and Mum,_

 _I reckon I just imagined my scar hurting, for I was half-asleep when I wrote to you the last time. There's no point coming back, everything's fine here. Don't worry about me, my head feels completely normal._

 _Love,_

 _Kiara_

I then decided to write to Grandmother Sarabi, so I picked up another piece of parchment and wrote:

 _Dear Grandmother Sarabi,_

 _I hope you and Grandmother Sarafina are well. Interesting news about the Triwizard Tournament coming back. Anyway, I got news from my parents last night, saying that they are coming back, and now I'm worried that they will be chucked back in Azkaban because I wrote to them and told them about my scar hurting. I mean, I told you, so - and bear in mind, I'm not trying to be cruel here - there was no need for me to tell them, was there?_

 _Got to go. Give my love to Grandmother Sarafina._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Kiara_

I then climbed out of the portrait hole, up through the silent castle (held up only briefly by Weeves, who tried to overturn a large vase on me halfway along the fourth-floor corridor), and finally arrived at the Owlery, which was situated at the top of West Tower.

The Owlery was a circular stone room; rather cold and draughty, because none of the windows had glass in them. The floor was entirely covered in straw, owl droppings and the regurgitated skeletons of mice and voles. Hundreds upon hundreds of owls of every breed imaginable were nestled here on perches that rose right to the top of the tower, nearly all of them asleep, though here and there a round amber eye glared at me. I spotted Harold nestled between a barn owl and a tawny, and I hurried over to him, sliding a little on the dropping-strewn floor.

It took me a little while to persuade him to wake up and then to look at me as he kept shuffling around on his perch, showing me his tail. He was evidently still furious about my lack of gratitude the previous night. In the end, it was my suggestion of that he might be too tired, and that perhaps I would ask Chrissie to borrow Piggledon, that made him stick out his leg and allowed me to tie my parent' letter to it.

"Just find them, all right?" I said, stroking his back as I carried him on my arm to one of the holes in the wall. "Before the Stingers do."

He nipped my finger, perhaps rather harder than he would ordinarily have done, but hooted softly in a reassuring sort of way all the same. He then spread his wings and took off into the sunrise, and when I could no longer see him, I turned to another owl, tied the letter to Grandmother Sarabi to it and let it fly. I watched that one go out of sight with the familiar feeling of unease back in my stomach, thinking of my parents as I did so. I had been so sure that my parents' reply would alleviate my worries rather than increase them.

0000

"That was a _lie_ , Kiara," said Sian sharply over breakfast, when I told her, Chris and Chrissie what I had done. "You _didn't_ imagine your scar hurting and you know it."

"So what?" I said. "They're not going back to Azkaban because of me."

"That may be!" Sian answered back, a fire burning in her eyes which made me tremble slightly. "But they're your parents, Kiara, and whether you like it or not, they are going to stand by your side through the good times and the bad to help you, and be there to guide and protect you. I know you're scared of them being sent back to Azkaban, Kiara," Sian said in a slightly softer tone, before I could say anything, "but the only reason they're coming back is because they care about you, are concerned for you and want to be close to where you are as possible. Doesn't that mean anything to you?" she finished, looking at me pointedly, which shut me up and ended the conversation.

I did my best not to worry about my parents over the next couple of weeks that followed after I sent the letter to my parents. True, I could not stop myself looking anxiously around every morning when the post owls arrived, nor late at night before I went to sleep, preventing myself from seeing horrible visions of my parents cornered by Stingers down some dark cornered street, but between these times I tried to keep my mind off my parents. I remember wishing that I still had Quidditch to distract me, for I found that nothing worked so well on a troubled mind as a good, hard training session. However, saying that, I did receive a reply from Grandmother Sarabi a few days after I had sent my letter to her. The reply reads thus:

 _My dearest Kiara,_

 _I'm glad you find the news of the Triwizard Tournament interesting, and I'm glad that the Ministry is putting enchantments in place, so that there is no way that you will be put in any danger this year._

 _About your parents, though, I know that you're worried about them being shipped back off back to Azkaban, as are myself and Sarafina, but we are trying not to be, and so should you. They will be safe, my darling, for we have Crighton on our side, after all. Don't forget about that._

 _Sarafina is well, my darling, and she sends you her love. And she and I want to give our best to Chris, Sian and Chrissie._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Grandmother Sarabi_

Once I had read this, I did feel slightly comforted, but there was still a lingering fear in the back of my mind that they were going to be captured, but it did take a little bit of weight of my mind - but let's get off my anxieties for a while, shall we?

Anyhoo, our lessons were becoming more difficult and demanding than ever before, Defence Against the Dark Arts in particular.

To our surprise, Professor Grumpy had announced that she would be putting the Imperius Curse on each of us in turn, to demonstrate its power and to see whether we could resist its effects.

"But - but you said it's illegal, Professor," said Sian uncertainly, as Grumpy cleared away the desks with a sweep of her wand, leaving a large clear space in the middle of the room. "You said - to use it against another human was - "

"Crighton wants you to be taught what it feels like," said Grumpy, one of her magical eyes swivelling onto Sian and fixing her with an eerie, unblinking stare. "If you'd rather learn the hard way - when someone's putting it on you so they can control you completely - then fine by me. You're excused. Off you go."

She pointed one gnarled finger towards the door. Sian went very pink, and muttered something about not meaning that she wanted to leave. Chris, Chrissie and I grinned at each other, for we knew that Sian would rather ear Bubotuber pus than miss such an important lesson.

One by one, each of us was called forward by Grumpy and were put the Imperius Curse on. I remember watching my fellow classmates do the most extraordinary things under its influence. Dena Wright skipped three times around the room, singing the national anthem. Larry Brown imitated a chipmunk. Nikita performed a series of intricate dance steps and flips that she certainly would not have been able to accomplish in her normal state. Not one of them seemed to be able to fight off the curse, and each of them only recovered when Grumpy had removed it.

"Pride-Lander," Grumpy growled, "you next."

I took a deep breath for courage before I moved forward into the middle of the classroom, into the space that Grumpy had cleared of desks. I looked nervously at the wand, wondering what was going to happen to me once I had been put under the curse's effects. But I had no time to think about it any longer, for next second Grumpy had raised her wand, pointed it at me and said, _"Imperio."_

I don't know what I was worried about, for what I felt was a wonderful feeling. I felt a floating sensation as though every thought and worry in my head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. I stood there feeling immensely relaxed, and I was only dimly aware of everyone watching me.

And then I head Crazy-Head Grumpy's voice, echoing in some distant chamber of my empty brain: _Jump onto the desk ... jump onto the desk ..._

I bent my knees obediently, preparing to spring.

 _Jump onto the desk ..._

Why, though?

Another voice had awoken in the back of my brain. Stupid thing to do, really, said the voice.

 _Jump onto the desk ..._

No, I don't think I will, thanks, said the other voice a little more firmly ... no, I don't really want to ...

 _Jump! NOW!_

The next thing I felt was considerable pain. I had both jumped and had tried to prevent myself from jumping - the result was that I'd smashed headlong into the desk, knocking it over, and, by the feeling in my legs, fractured both my kneecaps.

"Now, _that's_ more like it!" growled Grumpy's voice, and suddenly, I felt the empty, echoing feeling in my head disappear. I remembered exactly what was happening, and the pain in my knees seemed to double.

"Look at that, you lot ... Pride-Lander fought it! She fought it, and she damn near beat it! We'll try that again, Pride-Lander, and the rest of you, pay attention - watch her eyes, that's where you'll see it - very good, Pride-Lander, very good indeed! They'll have trouble controlling _you_!"

"The way she talks," I muttered, as I hobbled out of the Defence Against the Dark Arts class an hour later (Grumpy had insisted on putting me through my paces four times in a row, until I could throw the curse off completely), "you'd think we were all going to be attacked any second."

"Yeah, I know," said Chrissie, who was hopping on every alternate step. She had much more difficulty with the curse than I did, though Grumpy had assured her that the effects would have worn off by lunchtime. "Talk about paranoid ..." Chrissie then glanced nervously over her shoulder to check that Grumpy was definitely out of earshot, and went on, "No wonder they were glad to get shot of her at the Ministry. Did you hear her telling Zara what she did to that wizard who shouted "boo" behind her on April Fool's Day? And when are we supposed to read up on resisting the Imperius Curse with everything else we've got to do?"

We fourth-years had noticed a definite increase in the amount of work we were required to do that term. Professor Darbus explained why, when we all gave a particularly loud groan at the amount of Transfiguration homework she had set.

"You are now entering a most important phase of your education!" she told us, her eyes glinting dangerously behind her square spectacles. "Your Ordinary Wizarding Levels are drawing closer - "

"We don't take OWLs 'til fifth year!" said Dena Wright indignantly.

"Maybe not, Wright, but believe me, you need all the preparation you can get! The Eldest Dawson Girl remains the only person in this class who has managed to turn a hedgehog into a satisfactory pincushion. I might remind you that _your_ pincushion, Wright, still curls up in fright if anyone approaches it with a pin!"

Sian, who had turned rather pink again, tried not to look too smug about this, but that did not stop her throwing a bit of hair behind her back with her hand once we left.

Chrissie and I were both deeply amused when Professor Crystals told us that we had received top marks for our homework in our next Divination class. He read out large portions of our predictions, commending us for our unflinching acceptance of the horrors in store for us - but we were less amused when he asked us to do the same thing for the month after next, for the pair of us were running out of ideas for catastrophes.

Meanwhile, Professor Yawn, the ghost who taught History of Magic, had us writing weekly essays on the faun rebellions of the mid-eighteenth century: Professor Triphorm was forcing us to research antidotes, which we all took very seriously, as she had hinted that she might be poisoning one of us before Christmas to see if the student's antidote she chose worked. Professor Winds had asked us to read three extra books in preparation for our lesson on Summoning Charms.

Even Mina was adding to our workload. The Shudder-Ended Crabs were not only growing at a remarkable pace, given that nobody had yet discovered what they ate, but the big pincer on the end of its body had started to smoke, and every so often, a small flash of fire would flicker. Mina was delighted about both of these things and, as part of our "project", suggested that we went down to her hut on alternate evenings to observe the Crabs and make notes on their - er - extraordinary behaviour.

"I will not," said Dani Malty flatly, when Mina had proposed this with the air of Father Christmas pulling an extra toy out of his sack. "I see enough of these foul things during lessons, thanks."

Mina's smile faded from her face.

"Yeh'll do what yer told," she growled, "or I'll be takin' a leaf outta Professor Grumpy's book ... I heard yeh make a good ferret, Malty."

We Lion-Hearts all roared with laughter at this. Malty flushed with anger, but apparently the memory of Grumpy's punishment was still sufficiently painful to stop her retorting. I saw Rae-Bradley frown at this, but I swore I could have seen a twinkle of amusement in her eyes, but only for a fleeting moment, before I turned back to the Crabs. At the end of the lesson, Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I returned to the castle at the end of the lesson in high spirits; seeing Mina put down Malty was particularly satisfying, especially because Malty had done her very best to get Mina sacked in my third year.

When Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I arrived in the Entrance Hall, we found ourselves unable to proceed, owing to the large crowd of students congregated there, all milling around a large sign which had been erected at the foot of the marble staircase. Sian, the tallest of the four of us, stood on her tiptoes to see over the heads in front of us and read the sign aloud to Chris, Chrissie and I.

 _TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT_

 _The delegations from Beauxbatons and Uagadou will be arriving at 6 o'clock on Tuesday 30th October. Lessons will end half an hour early -_

"That's during Muggle Studies, that is," Chris told us.

 _Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast._

"Only a week away," said Emily Mac of Badger-Stripes, emerging from the crowd, her eyes gleaming. "I wonder if Georgia knows? I think I'll go tell her ..."

"Georgia?" said Chris blankly, as Emily hurried off.

"That idiot, Dragon Mort Champion?" said Chrissie, as we pushed our way through the chattering crowd towards the staircase.

"She's not an idiot, you just don't like her because she beat Lion-Heart at Quidditch," said Chris. "From what I've heard, she's a really good student - and she's a Prefect."

He spoke as though this settled the matter.

"Oh, please. You only like her because she's _beautiful_ ," said Chrissie scathingly.

"Excuse me, I do not like her just because she's beautiful!" said Chris indignantly.

Sian chose this moment to speak, for she gave a loud, false cough that sounded oddly like, "Gold!"

The appearance of the sign in the Entrance Hall had a marked effect upon the inhabitants of the castle. During the following week, there seemed to be only one topic of conversation, no matter where I went: the Triwizard Tournament. Rumours were flying from student to student like highly contagious germs: who was going to try for Dragon Mort Champion, what the Tournament would involve, how the students from Beauxbatons and Uagadou differed from us.

I noticed, too, that the castle seemed to be undergoing an extra-thorough cleaning. Several grimy portraits had been scrubbed, much to the displeasure of their occupants, who sat huddled in their frames, muttering darkly and wincing as they felt their now pink faces. The suits of armour were suddenly gleaming and moving without squeaking, and Douglas Match, the caretaker, was behaving so ferociously to any student who forgot to wipe their shoes that he terrified a pair of first-year girls into hysterics.

Other members of staff seemed oddly tense, too.

"Bore, kindly do not reveal that you cannot perform a simple Switching Spell in front of anyone from Uagadou!" Professor Darbus barked at the end of one particularly difficult lesson, during which Nikita had accidentally transplanted her own ears onto a cactus.

When we went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, we found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Dragon Mort house - red with a golden lion for Lion-Heart, blue with a bronze raven for Raven-Wings, yellow with a black-and-white badger for Badger-Stripes, and green with a silver serpent for Snake-Eyes. Behind the teachers' table, the largest banner of all bore the Dragon Mort coat of arms: lion, raven, badger and snake united around two large letters: DM, and beside the D and beside the M were two large, yellow, dragon's eyes.

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I spotted Tanya and Geri at the Lion-Heart table. Once again, and most unusually, they were sitting apart from everyone else and were conversing in low voices. Chrissie led the way over to them.

"It's a bummer, all right," Geri was saying gloomily to Tanya. "But if she wasn't going to be talking to us in person, then we'll have to send her the letter after all. Either that, or we'll stuff it into her hand. She can't avoid us for ever."

"Who's avoiding you?" said Chris, sitting down next to them.

"Wish you and Chrissie would," said Tanya, looking irritated at the interruption.

"But we wanna know," said Chrissie, in an annoyingly whining voice, that Sian rolled her eyes and shook her head at. "So, what's a bummer?" Chrissie then asked Geri.

"Having a nosy little mouse like you for a cousin," said Geri.

"You two got any ideas on the Triwizard Tournament yet?" I asked. "Thought any more about trying to enter?"

"I asked Darbus how the Champions are chosen but she wasn't telling," said Geri bitterly. "She just told me to shut up and get on with Transfiguring my racoon."

"Wonder what the tasks are going to be?" said Chrissie thoughtfully. "You know, I bet we could do them, Kiara, we've done dangerous stuff before ..."

"Not in front of a panel of judges, you haven't," said Tanya. "Darbus says the Champions get awarded points according to how well they've done the tasks."

"Who are the judges?" I asked.

"Well, the Heads of the participating schools are on the panel," said Sian, and Chris, Chrissie, Tanya, Geri and I looked around at her, rather surprised, "because all three of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792, when a cockatrice the Champions were supposed to be catching went on the rampage."

She then noticed the five of us looking at her and said, with her usual air of impatience that nobody had else had read all the books she had, "It's all in _The Most Memorable and Magical Events of The Eighteenth Century_ , or _A History of The Most Influential and Magical Events, from 1066 - 1792_."

"Well, at least they faced a cockatrice rather than a herd of house-elves," said Chrissie jokingly, but Sian did not find this funny at all, for she turned slowly to her sister, here eyes burning with a raging fire and practically yelled at her -

"Don't you dare bring house-elves into this, Chrissie! They get a rough ordeal as it is, without you making insulting jokes about their species! They're living beings, Chrissie, just like you and me, so have a little respect for them, why don't you?"

Chris, Chrissie, Tanya and Geri looked shocked at Sian as they backed away from her slightly, for her teeth were bared and her breathing was heavy. I was also unnerved by her words, but I decided it was best for me to stay focused on my scrambled eggs. Chris, Chrissie and my own lack of enthusiasm had done nothing to stop Sian's determination to pursue justice to help mistreated house-elves. True, the three of us had paid two Sickles for a H.A.M.E. badge, but we had only done it to keep her quiet. Our Sickles were wasted, however, for if anything it seemed to have made Sian more vociferous. She had been badgering Chris, Chrissie and I ever since, firstly to wear the badges, then to persuade others to do the same, and she had also taken to rattling the tin around the Lion-Heart common room every evening, cornering people and shaking the collecting tin under their noses.

"You do realise that there are house-elves out there who, even though they have a roof over their heads, may be living in worse circumstances that you can't even think of. Not to mention that they also change your sheets, light your fires, clean our classrooms and eat the food that we eat that is made by a group of magical creatures who are mostly unpaid and enslaved?" She kept saying fiercely.

Some people, like Nikita, had paid up just to stop Sian glowering at them. A few seemed mildly interested in what she had to say, but were reluctant to take a more active role in campaigning. Many regarded the whole thing as a joke (and I think we can all imagine how Sian took that, can't we?).

Once Sian had calmed down enough, Chris and Chrissie rolled their eyes at the ceiling, which flooded us all in autumn sunlight, and Tanya became extremely interested in her bacon (both twins had refused to buy a H.A.M.E. badge). Geri, however, leant towards Sian.

"Listen, have you ever been down to the kitchens, Sian?"

"No, of course not," said Sian curtly. "I hardly think students are supposed to - "

"Well, we have," said Geri, indicating Tanya, "loads of times, to nick food. And we met them, and they're _happy_. They think they've got the best job in the world - "

"That's because they're uneducated and brainwashed!" said Sian hotly, but her next few words were drowned by the sudden whooshing noise from overhead which announced the arrival of the post owls. I looked up at once and saw Harold soaring towards me. Sian stopped talking abruptly; she, Chris and Chrissie watched Harold anxiously, as he fluttered down onto my shoulder, folded his wings and held out his leg, hooting wearily.

I pulled off my parents' letter and offered Harold my bacon rinds, which he ate gratefully. Then, checking that Tanya and Geri were safely immersed in further discussion about the Triwizard Tournament, I read out my parents' letter in a whisper to Chris, Sian and Chrissie.

 _Nice try, Kiara._

 _Your father and I are back in the country and are well hidden. We want you to keep us posted on everything that's going on at Dragon Mort. Don't use Harold, keep changing owls, and don't worry about us, just watch out for yourself. Don't forget what your father said about your scar._

 _Your father sends his love._

 _Love you always,_

 _Mum_

"Why d'you have to keep changing owls?" Chrissie asked in a low voice.

"Harold will attract too much attention," said Sian at once. "He stands out. A snowy owl that keeps returning to wherever they're hiding ... I mean ... they're not native birds, are they?"

I rolled up the letter and slipped it inside my robes, whilst I wondered whether I felt more or less worried than before. I supposed that my parents managing to get back without being caught was something. I couldn't deny, either, that the idea that my parents were much nearer to me was reassuring; at least I wouldn't have to wait so long for a response every time I wrote to them.

"Thanks, Harold," I said, stroking him. He nodded sleepily, dipped his neck briefly into my goblet of orange juice, then took off again, clearly desperate for a good long sleep in the Owlery.

There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air that day. None of us were very attentive in lessons, being much more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Uagadou: Muggle Studies was as interesting as ever, but we were far too excited to concentrate. When the bell rang early, Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I hurried up to Lion-Heart Tower, deposited our bags and books as we had been instructed , pulled on our cloaks and rushed back downstairs into the Entrance Hall.

The Heads of Houses were organizing their students into lines.

"Miss Dawson, fix your cloak," Professor Darbus snapped at Chrissie. "Party, straighten your hat."

Perry huffed and fixed his hat on straight.

"Follow me, please," said Professor Darbus, "first-years to the front, no pushing ..."

We filed down the front steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening; dusk was falling and a pale, transparent-looking moon was already shining over the Black Forest. I was stood between Sian and Chrissie in the fourth row from the front, and saw Denise McCreevy positively shivering with anticipation among the other first-years.

"Nearly six," said Chrissie, checking her watch and then staring down the drive which led to the front gates. "How d'you reckon they're coming? The subs?"

"I doubt it," said Sian.

"How, then? Broomsticks?" I suggested, looking up at the starry sky.

"I don't think so ... not from that far away ..."

"A Portkey?" Chris suggested. "Or the could Apparate - maybe you're allowed to do it under seventeen wherever they come from?"

"You can't Apparate inside the Dragon Mort grounds, how many times do I have to tell you this?" said Sian impatiently.

We scanned the darkening grounds expectantly, but nothing was moving; everything was still silent and quiet as usual. I was starting to feel cold. I so wished that they would hurry up ... maybe the foreign students were preparing a dramatic entrance ... I remembered what Mr Dawson had said back on the campsite before the Quidditch Friendly - "Always the same, we can't resist showing off when we get together ..."

And then Crighton called out from the back row, where she stood with the other teachers - "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?" said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.

 _"There!"_ yelled a sixth-year, pointing over the Forest.

Something large much larger than a broomstick - or, indeed, a hundred broomsticks - was hurtling across the deep blue sky towards the castle, growing larger all the time.

"It's a dragon!" shrieked one of the first-years, losing his head completely.

"Don't be stupid ... it's a flying horse!" said Denise McCreevy.

Denise's guess was closer ... as the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Black Forest, and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, we saw a gigantic, powder-blue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring towards us, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.

The front three rows of students drew backwards as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed - then, with an almighty crash that made Nikita jump backwards onto a Snake-eyes fifth-year's foot - the horses' hooves, larger than dinner plates, hit the ground. A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes.

I had just time to see that the door of the carriage bore a coat of arms (two crossed, golden wands, each emitting three stars) before it opened.

A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forwards, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. Then I saw a shining, black-footed shoe emerge from the inside of the carriage - a shoe the size of a child's sled - followed, almost immediately, by the largest man I had ever seen in my life, before or since. The size of the carriage, and of the horses, was immediately explained. A few people gasped.

I had only ever seen one person as large as this man before I saw him, and that was Mina; I doubted whether there was an inch difference in their heights. Yet somehow - maybe because I was used to Mina - this man (now at the foot of the steps, and looking around at us waiting, wide-eyed students) seemed even more unusually large. As he stepped into the light flooding from the Entrance Hall, he was revealed to have a handsome, olive-skinned face, large, black, liquid-looking eyes and a rather long nose. His hair reached to just above his shoulders. He was dressed from head to foot in rich, black robes, and there were a few opal rings on his thick fingers.

Crighton started to clap; myself and my fellow students followed her lead and broke into applause, too, many of them were standing on tiptoe, the better to look at this man.

His face relaxed into a gracious smile, and he walked forwards towards Crighton, extending a glittering hand. Crighton, tall as she was, had barely to bend to grab it, as the man bent down to kiss it.

"My dear Monsieur Legrand," she said. "Welcome to Dragon Mort."

"Crighton," said Monsieur Legrand, in a deep voice. "I 'ope I find you and you children well?"

"I am on excellent form, and my children are bearing very well, thank you," said Crighton.

"My pupils," said Monsieur Legrand, waving one of his enormous hands carelessly behind him.

My attention had been focused completely upon Monsieur Legrand, but I then noticed that around a dozen boys and girls all, by the looks of them, in their late teens - had emerged from the carriage and were stood behind Monsieur Legrand. They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them were wearing any cloaks. A few of them had wrapped shawls and scarves around their heads. From what I saw of their faces (which wasn't much, seeing as they were standing in Monsieur Legrand's shadow), they were staring up at Dragon Mort with apprehensive looks on their faces.

"'As Kula arrived yet?" Monsieur Legrand asked.

"She should be here any moment," said Crighton. "Would you like to wait here and greet her or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think," said Monsieur Legrand. "But ze 'orses - "

"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them," said Crighton, "the moment she has returned from dealing with a slight situation which has arisen with some of her - er - other charges."

"Crabs," Chrissie muttered to me, grinning.

"My steeds require - er - forceful 'andling," said Monsieur Legrand, looking as though he doubted whether any Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Dragon Mort could be up to the job. "Zey are very strong ..."

"I assure you that Mina will be well up to the job," said Crighton, smiling.

"Very well," said Monsieur Legrand, bowing slightly, "will you please inform zis Meena zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whisky?"

"It will be attended to," said Crighton, curtseying.

"Come," said Monsieur Legrand imperiously to his students, and we Dragon Mort students parted to allow him and his students to pass up the stone steps.

"How big d'you reckon the Uagadou horses are going to be?" Zara Finn said, peering around Larry and Perry to address Chris, Chrissie and I.

"Well, if they're any bigger than this lot, even Mina won't be able to handle them," I said. "That is if she hasn't been attacked by her Crabs. Wonder what's up with them?"

"Maybe they've escaped?" said Chris hopefully.

I heard Chrissie mutter under her breath a few times, "I hope they have ... I hope they have ... I hope they have ... I hope they have ..."

"Oh, don't say that," said Sian, with a shudder. "Imagine that lot loose on the grounds ..."

We stood, shivering slightly, waiting for the Uagadou party to arrive. Most people were gazing hopefully up at the sky. For a few minutes, the silence was broken only by Monsieur Legrand's huge horses snorting and stomping. Then -

"Can you hear something?" said Chris suddenly.

I listened; a loud and oddly eerie noise was drifting towards us from out of the darkness; a muffled rumbling and sucking sound, as though an immense vacuum cleaner was moving along a river bed ...

"The river!" yelled Leah Jones, pointing down at it. "Look at the river!"

From our position at the tops of the lawns overlooking the grounds, we had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water - except that the surface was suddenly not smooth at all. Some disturbance was taking place deep in the centre; great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were washing over the muddy banks - and then, out in the very middle of the river, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the river's floor ...

What seemed to be a long, curled, silver pole began to rise out of the heart of the whirlpool ... and then I saw it rise up, tall and straight, with a bit of glass stuck in the curled bit of the pipe ...

"It's a periscope!" I said to Chris, Sian and Chrissie.

Slowly, magnificently, the submarine emerged from the water. The submarine was longer and thinner than the submarines that Dragon Mort and was completely silver. From the light shining on the submarine from the Entrance Hall, it made the submarine look spirited in some strange way, and made the portholes look like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the submarine emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide towards the bank. A few moments later, we heard the engine stop, and the creaking of a door being opened.

People were disembarking; we saw their silhouettes passing the lights in the submarine's portholes, like ghosts on a ghost ship. Most of them, I noticed, seemed to be built along the lines of Crate and Gabber ... but then, as they drew nearer, I saw that their bulk was really due to the fact that they were wearing cloaks of some kind of shaggy, matted fur. But the woman who was leading them up to the castle was wearing furs of a different sort; sleek and silver, like her hair.

"Crighton!" she called heartily, as she walked up the slope. "How are you, my dear friend, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Kula, as are my children," Crighton replied.

"Indeed they are," said Kula, glancing around quickly but not really looking at Crighton's children.

She had a fruity, unctuous voice; when she stepped into the light pouring from the front doors of the castle, we saw that she was tall and thin, like Crighton, but her white hair was short and curled slightly at the end, and I also noticed that she had a rather weak chin. When she reached Crighton she shook hands with both her own.

"Dear old Dragon Mort," she said, looking up at the castle and smiling; her teeth were rather yellow, and I noticed that her smile did not extend to her eyes, which remained cold and shrewd. "How good it is to be here, how good ... Kovu, come along into the warm ... you don't mind, Crighton? Kovu has a slight head cold ..."

Kula beckoned forwards one of her students. As the boy passed, I caught a glimpse of a prominent, large nose and thick, black eyebrows. I didn't need the punch of arm Chrissie gave me, or the hiss that both she and Chris gave me in my ear, to recognise the profile.

"Oh my _God_!" Chrissie whispered.

"Kiara - it's _Outsider_!" Chris gasped.

0000

 **A.N.: I don't know when I'll next be able to update, but hopefully it'll be before next week, because hopefully I'll be moving out. More to come, and you'll get to see what the Dawson girls have got planned.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

 **The Goblet of Fire**

 **KIARA**

"I don't believe it!" Chrissie said in a stunned voice, as we Dragon Mort students filed back up the steps behind the party from Uagadou. "Outsider, Kiara! _Kovu Ousider!_ "

"For heaven's sake, Chrissie, he's only a Quidditch player," said Sian.

 _"Only a Quidditch player?"_ Chris said, as he and Chrissie both looked at her as though they couldn't believe their ears. "Sian - he's one of the best Seekers in the world! We had no idea he was still at school!"

Before Chrissie could raise another point, Crighton's voice called out, "Sian, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel and Merida, come here now, please!" She was standing by the Entrance Hall doors, waiting for her five daughters.

"Come on, Chrissie," she hissed to her twin sister, before she said to Chris and I, "We'll see you later."

"Sian, what's - ?"

"We can't tell you, but trust me, Kiara, you are going to _love_ it!" Sian said, before she and Chrissie ran up the stairs to their mother, with Beth, Kestrel and Merida close behind. Chris and I looked at each other, shrugged, and walked into the Entrance Hall. For the past few weeks, we had tried to ask them what they were up to, but they wouldn't tell; but whenever we saw the five sisters coming back from wherever they were, practicing whatever they had been doing, they always looked exhausted, but rather pleased with themselves. So whatever it was that they were doing (and what we are about to see), it was sure to be good.

Anyhoo, as we reached the Entrance Hall with most of the Dragon Mort students, heading for the Great Hall, I saw Leah Jones jumping up and down on the balls of her feet to get a better look at the back of Outsider's head. Several sixth-year giggly girls were frantically searching their pockets as they walked - "Oh, I don't believe it, I haven't got a quill on me - " "D'you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?"

"Pathetic, isn't it?" I asked Chris, as he rolled his eyes at the giggling girls, who were squabbling over the lipstick.

"You're not kidding it is, Kiara," Chris said. "I mean, I want his autograph, too, don't get me wrong, but even I wouldn't go _that_ far."

We walked over to the Lion-Heart table and sat down. Chris was taking looks every so often at the door, because Outsider and his fellow Uagadou students were still gathered around it, apparently unsure about where they could sit. The students from Beauxbatons had chosen seats at the Raven-Wings table. They were looking around the Great Hall with glum expressions on their faces. Three of them were still clutching scarves and shawls around their heads.

"It's not that cold," I said irritably, watching them. "Why didn't they bring cloaks?"

"Well, Chrissie's not going to be happy about that," Chris said, looking properly at the door.

"Huh?" I said brilliantly, looking at him.

"Look," he said, nodding at the door. I turned round, and saw that the Uagadou students had settled themselves on the Snake-Eyes table, and they walked over to it. I could see that Malty, Crate and Gabber looking very smug about this. As I watched the Uagadou students sit down, I saw Malty put on a particularly flirtatious air, and bent forwards to speak to Outsider.

"Look at her, sucking up to Outsider like that," I said scathingly. "I bet Outsider sees right through her, though ... bet he gets girls sucking up to her all the time ... trying to get some of the gold he keeps, when they should realise that there are more important things than wealth in life ..."

Chris listened to what I was saying, nodding his head as he did so, before he said, "I agree with you, Kiara. And I bet you anything that Chrissie is wondering right now where they're going to sleep tonight."

"Why, d'you think Chrissie would sleep on a camp bed, or something?" I asked, and Chris laughed. Once his laughter had subsided, I said to him, "Anyway, they look a lot happier than the Beauxbatons lot."

The Uagadou students were pulling off their dark furs, they were all looking at the starry black ceiling with expressions of interest; a couple of them were picking up the silver plates and goblets and were examining them, apparently impressed.

Up at the staff table, Match, the caretaker, was adding chairs. He wore his mouldy old tail coat in honour of the occasion. I was surprised to see that he added four chairs, two on either side of Crighton's.

"But there are only two extra people," I said. "Why's Match putting out four chairs? Who else is coming?"

"I know," said Chris, now looking up at the staff table. "That is weird."

When all the students had entered (besides Sian, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel and Merida, of course) and settled down at their house tables, the staff entered, filling up the high table and taking their seats. Last in line were Professor Kula and Monsieur Legrand. When their headmaster appeared, the pupils from Beaxbatons leapt to their feet. A few of the Dragon Mort students laughed. The Beaxbtons party appeared quite unembarrassed, and did not resume their seats until Monsieur Legrand had sat down on Crighton's left-hand side. Crighton, however, remained silent, and a silence fell over the Great Hall.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most importantly - guests," said Crighton, beaming around at all the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Dragon Mort. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and knowledgeable."

One of the Beauxbatons boys, who was still clutching a muffler around his head, gave what was unmistakably a derisive laugh.

"No one's making you stay!" Chris whispered, bristling at him.

"I will get to more about the Tournament later, but before I do," Crighton said, raising her voice as she did so, "my daughters have prepared something to show to our honoured guests and my other students. So girls, the floor - as they say - is yours." When she finished saying this, Crighton sat back down, and the Hall fell deadly quiet.

We all sat quietly, patiently, waiting for something to happen. Suddenly, the candlelight burnt a little less brightly, sending the Hall into semi-darkness. The Hall then breathed with excited anticipation, as a mystical voice spoke and filled the room, as mystical, blue smoke slowly appeared in the air in the centre of the Hall: _"Many years ago, when the universe was first born ... a tiny Kingdom which resides in the Centre of Infinity was born ..."_ The shadow of a building was what we could see in the smoke. _"Magical beings from across the stars over the centuries have joined together to form a council ... including some from our world ... who have called themselves ... the Guardians of Kandracar ..."_ The building changed back into smoke and shadow, until the five shadows of girls were shown, standing in a circle formation, with a different symbol next to them. _"And these Guardians still exist ... to ... this ... DAY!"_

As the word "day" was shouted, the smoke was cleared by a blinding flash of light, which turned into the outline of a flower, and as the petals unfurled, a girl roes up out of them. She wore a top that was long-sleeved and came to her waist, which also hung off her shoulders, which were well-rounded, strong, yet feminine. The skirt of her outfit was long and flowing, and reached just above her ankles, so that we could see her boots, which looked like they reached her knees. The top and skirt were both a light shade of green, which were supported by a belt, which was dark brown, like her boots. I noticed that she also had wings, which, interestingly enough, were made of oak leaves. As I was looking at her wings, I saw that her hair was curled inwardly, and that's when it started to dawn on me what exactly Sian, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel and Merida had been preparing.

Everyone "ooohed" and "aaahed" as Sian extended her limbs. Then she opened her eyes and lifted her head, her expression fierce, as she then broke the flower petals apart, which had been transformed into little sycamore leaves, which she then led around her and, starting near the floor, she went round and round in circles, rising higher as she went, making a sycamore tree with the leaves of said tree. Everyone gasped in amazement, as Sian then spun around on the spot very quickly, making all the leaves disperse, and then join together in a waving, never-ceasing line of movement, as Sian then led them to a spot in mid-air in the middle of the Hall and spread them apart as though to make a table (which she did), and there she magically created different flowers in assorted colours, and after that, she took the remaining leaves, and raising a hand above her head, magically commanded them to make a symbol: a large, round circle with a small circle in the centre. That's when it came to me that this was one of the first symbols which had appeared in the smoke, which (as I would learn later) stood for Earth.

Sian was hovering just above the table now, as she turned her head to the right. All of us on the ground looked where she did, as the sound of rushing water filled our ears. As this sound got louder, a big whirlpool of water rose out of the solid concrete floor and hovered slightly below Sian in the shape of a girl, who I knew to be Chrissie. When Sian glared at her, Chrissie looked down carefully, saw herself as she did, as her body was completely formed of water, from head to toe; so she took out a water bottle, opened it, and we all watched, amazed, as the water was withdrawn back into the bottle and we saw her outfit clearly: a long, sleeveless, aqua-blue dress, which grew shades lighter as you looked down and was almost transparent when it reached her feet. She had flat shoes on, which were the same colour as her dress, and her wings were so delicate and were pale blue, and when she flapped them, it looked as though water was moving. Also, the tips of her wings looked like they were little dew drops that seemed as though they were about to drop, but didn't.

Chrissie then looked at her sister to see if she approved. Sian nodded, then gave a slight nod of her head, as if to say "Get on with it, then." So Chrissie opened her bottle and spilled into her hand a small ball of water, before she closed the bottle and put it back in a little satchel that was beside her dress. She then flew about the Hall, before she stopped, separated the ball into other balls of water, and spread them about the Hall, where they flew left, right and centre. a lot of people laughed, me and Chris included, as many a person got a chance to hit one of these balls of water. Eventually, Chrissie brought the balls back and made a big ball of water with them again, and raised it above the plant-made table where it stood, sending shafts of water on the ceiling, and not one droplet landed on the floor. Then she took out her water bottle again, took another big ball of water and, instead of separating this one and throwing it around the Hall, she threw it to her right, where the symbol of Water was formed: not a swirl exactly in the middle as it started, for it then curled out and ended in a flick.

We were all applauding enthusiastically as, with a sudden _whoosh_ , a giant burst of flame swept in, which made some go _"whoa!"_ and others scream. As she stopped, the flame stopped, too, and it revealed the short frame of Beth, wearing a long-sleeved top that reached to her waist, and pants that clung to her legs tightly, along with boots. These three items were all bright, fiery shades of red and her wings looked as though they were made of fire, for they burned and little wisps of smoke came off of them. Her hair was also tied back in a high ponytail.

She then took out a whip, which was actually on fire. The entire Hall was silent and tense, wondering what she was going to do with it. Beth then started to move elegantly and fiercely, flicking this whip of fire left, right and centre. She did this for about a minute(and when it came close to people, they quickly moved out of the way), before she flung her whip around in a circle, where balls of fire were created, which she then moved around with her whip, which were placed about halfway under Chrissie's ball of water, which were not directly under it, but close enough so that the shafts of light that hit the ceiling from the water ball became lighter. Beth then took her place directly below Sian, and waved her whip above her hair three times, before putting the whip away, forming the symbol of Fire: a triangle that didn't join up at its left point.

Then we heard a soft, calm breeze come through the air, and as we looked left, we saw a girl who was tall, willowy and graceful, wearing a long dress which looked as though it was made of layers of material. I wondered why this was, but when I saw her up close, I saw that the dress was a very pale yellow that covered her feet, that was short-sleeved. She had her hair down like Sian and Chrissie, and her wings were so pale that you couldn't see them, but when they flapped together, you could see wind flash through them. I then recognised the girl to be Kestrel, as she got some of the wind (not from her wings) and formed it, and controlled it, making it swoop and turn around us, making our hair go flying. Kestrel then drew some feathers out of her satchel, and mixed them in the wind, which she then used to form an owl, which flew around the Hall once, before she called it back and blew the feathers away, but they didn't fall to the floor. Instead, they just floated in mid-air, hovering above us so gently, so that we could all see each tiny detail of the feather, which Kestrel then collected with her power. Once she had done so, Kestrel then used the wind to make the ball of fire Beth had created to spin around , so that they made more light around the Hall, before she took her place on the left side of Sian and formed the symbol of Air: a triangular swirl which curled out and flicked at the end. Everyone was cheering in support of what they were doing.

Then Merida appeared in the centre of the circle out of nowhere, wearing a long, shimmering dress of purple with silver beads, which flowed to her feet. Her hair was loose and her dress flowed freely. Her wings were purple , with strange silver symbols shimmering through them every time her wings flapped. Her eyes were closed and her hands were placed in front of her, and then she slowly started to spread her arms, a smile spreading across her lips as she did so. People gasped as some invisible force hit them, and then they gasped in amazement at what was happening to them. I didn't realise what was happening, until I felt the force hit me. I gasped out loud at what I felt, for my spirit felt like it had been risen up from my depths and brought to the surface, and I felt connected with every other person's spirit in the Hall, and the power of Spirit that Merida had cast upon each and every one of us in the Hall strengthened us and filled us with this amazing, extraordinary feeling that I cannot explain. I closed my eyes as these words were sung:

 _"Our world is more than we see,_

 _There's danger that lies beneath,_

 _We fight to protect the free._

 _(Water, Fire, Earth and Air)_

 _To protect the free_

 _(Water, Fire, Earth and Air)_

 _Guardians,_

 _Guardians,_

 _Guardians unite!"_

I opened my eyes as the song ended, and the Spiritual power was taken away (which I, as well as many others, were rather disappointed about, for I felt a feeling of loss as soon as it was taken away), and as I looked again at the circle, I saw the symbol for Spirit: what looked like two eyebrows, one on top of the other, each facing different directions.

Sian, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel and Merida then split from the circle and did something amazing: Sian used the sycamore leaves to create a herd of centaurs, galloping along; Chrissie used her water to form a group of merpeople; Beth used fire to form a long, thin red phoenix out of her whip of fire; Kestrel formed a Hippogriff that was flying through the air out of the wind, which you could just make out by how chalky and smoky the Hippogriff looked, and Merida gave them some Spirit, which made them come more alive slightly on how they moved and the noises they made. I believe that all of us within the Hall were united in awe at the magic that they were creating, as all that they had done then merged together and surrounded the girls; and then, in one blinding flash, it was over. As the light faded, we saw that the plants, water, fire and air had disappeared, and the five Guardians, who were now back in their normal forms, looked rather pleased with themselves, as they looked around the Hall and saw our astonished faces.

The Hall was silent for a few moments, as we all adjusted to what had just happened. Then we all started clapping and cheering wildly, which made Sian, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel and Merida look even more pleased with themselves, and also a little smug. Then Sian stepped forward, looked at the staff table and held up her hands in silence. Once the Hall had gone quiet (which didn't take that long, seeing how all of us were deeply respectful of these girls and their powers), Sian then spoke loudly. She said:

"Honoured guests, we welcome you to our school. We hope that you will enjoy your time here and that you will respect the staff and students who dwell within these walls. You will also find in your submarine and your carriage - " she nodded her head to Kula and Monsieur Legrand in turn as she said "submarine" and "carriage" " - gifts from the Oracle, the Head of the Council of Kandracar, and we hope that you will use them well and wisely. And on that note, we hope once again that you will enjoy your stay." She then slightly bowed her head to Kula, then to Monsieur Legrand and then to her mother, before she came and sat down beside me. Her sisters followed suit, and then sat down at the Lion-Heart table to tumultuous applause from everyone in the Great Hall. Even the Snake-Eyes students seemed impressed by what they did.

"So _that's_ why you didn't want to tell us what you were up to!" Chris said, as he and I both looked at Sian and Chrissie with impressed looks on our faces.

Chrissie and Sian giggled, then Chrissie said, "Well, we _did_ tell you it was going to be good."

"No kidding," I said lightly, and the four of us laughed. "That was amazing. And that's why the five of you kept running off last year!" I said, cottoning on. "Because you were doing stuff for the Oracle!"

Sian smiled and said, "First of all, thank you, Kiara, I'm glad you like it. Second of all, you're right, that is what myself and my sisters were doing last year."

The Hall was still in high spirits, as everyone was still commenting on what just happened, until Crighton stood up, that is, and the chatter died rather reluctantly, she then said, "Thank you, my daughters, for your wonderful display of magical talent. Truly fantastic. But, back to the Tournament. The Tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," she continued. "But for now, I invite you all to eat, drink and make yourselves at home!"

She then looked proudly at her daughters before she sat down, and I saw Kula lean forwards at once and engage her in conversation.

The dishes in front of us were filled with food as usual. The house-elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops; there was a greater variety of dishes in front of us than I had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign.

"What's that?" Chris said, pointing at a large dish of some shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak-and-kidney pudding.

"Bouillabaisse," said Sian.

"Bless you," said Chrissie.

"It's French," said Sian. "I've had it on holiday when Ma took me to France a few times. It's very nice."

"I'll take your word for it," said Chris, helping himself to black pudding.

The Great Hall seemed much more crowded than usual, even though there were barely twenty additional students there; perhaps it was because their differently coloured uniforms stood out so clearly against the navy of the Dragon Mort robes. Now that they had removed their furs, and I saw that they wore skins of either a cheetah or a lion, and they all wore necklaces of animal teeth.

Mina sidled into the Hall through a door behind the staff table twenty minutes after the start of the feast. She slid into her seat at the end and waved at Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I with a very heavily bandaged hand.

"Crabs doing all right, Mina?" I called.

"Thrivin'," Mina called back happily.

"Yeah, I'll bet they are," said Chrissie quietly. "Looks like they've finally found a food they like, doesn't it? Mina's fingers."

At that moment, a voice said, "Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?"

It was the boy from Beauxbatons who had laughed during Crighton's speech. He had finally removed his muffler. A long sheet of black hair, which shined oddly (as if the sun was trying to shine through it) fell almost to his waist. He had large, deep brown eyes and very white, even teeth.

Chrissie went pink. She stared up at the boy, opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out except a faint gurgling noise.

"Yeah, have it," I said, pushing the dish towards the boy.

"You 'ave finished wiz it?"

"Yeah," Chrissie said breathlessly. "Yeah, it was excellent."

The boy picked up the dish and carried it carefully over to the Raven-Wings table. Chrissie was still goggling at the boy as though she had never seen one before. I, who wasn't so distracted by him, started to laugh. The sound seemed to jog Chrissie back to her senses.

"He's a _Coltee_!" she said hoarsely to Sian and I.

"Of course he isn't!" said Chris tartly. "I don't see anyone else gaping at him like an idiot!"

But he wasn't entirely right about that. As the boy crossed the Hall, many girls' heads turned , and some of them seemed to have become temporarily speechless, just like Chrissie.

"Chrissie's right, Rickers," Sian said. "That boy is not normal."

"Yeah," said Chrissie dreamily, looking sideways so that she could keep a clear view of him. "They don't make them like that at Dragon Mort!"

"They make them OK at Dragon Mort," I said, without thinking. Khan Chan happened to be sitting only a few places away from the boy with the black hair. If I had taken proper attention, I would've probably noticed Chris stiffen slightly, and his eyes narrow.

He took a few deep breaths and said, "When you there've put your eyes back in," he said, with a slight edge to his voice, "you'll be able to see who's just arrived."

He was pointing up at the staff table. The two remaining empty seats had just been filled. Lynn Baxter was now sitting on Professor Kula's other side, while Mrs Clutch, Perdy's boss, was next to Monsieur Legrand.

"What are they doing here?" I said in surprise.

"They organised the Triwizard Tournament, didn't they?" said Sian. "I suppose they wanted to be here to see it start."

When the second course arrived we noticed a number of unfamiliar puddings, too. Chrissie examined an odd sort of pale blancmange closely, then moved it carefully a few inches to her right, so that it would be clearly visible from the Raven-Wings table. The boy who looked like a Coltee appeared to have eaten enough, however, and did not come over to get it.

Once the silver plates had been wiped clean, Crighton stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension filled the Hall now. I felt a slight thrill of excitement, wondering what was coming. Several seats along from us, Tanya and Geri were leaning forwards, staring at their aunt with great concentration.

"The moment has come," said Crighton, smiling around at the sea that was our upturned faces. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket - "

"The what?" I muttered.

Chrissie shrugged.

" - just to clarify the procedure which we will be following this year. But firstly, let me introduce, for those of you who do not know them, Mrs Beatrice Clutch, Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation - " there was a smattering of polite applause - "and Miss Lynnette Baxter, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

There was a much louder round of applause for Baxter than for Clutch, perhaps because of her fame as a Beater, or simply because she looked so much more likeable. She acknowledged it with a jovial wave of her hand. Beatrice Clutch did not smile or wave when her name was announced. I remembered how she looked in her suit at the Quidditch Friendly, and thought how strange it was to see her in witch's robes. Her hair up in a tight bun looked very odd next to Crighton's long caramel hair that was going grey in places, and was also flowing freely down her back.

"Miss Baxter and Mrs Clutch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Crighton continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Kula and Monsieur Legrand on the panel which will judge the champions' efforts."

At the mention of the word "Champions", the attentiveness of all the students - myself included - seemed to sharpen.

Perhaps Crighton had noticed our sudden stillness, for she smiled as she said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr Match."

Match, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Crighton, carrying a great wooden chest, that was encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from we watching students; Denise McCreevy actually stood on her chair to see properly, but, being so tiny, her head hardly rose above anyone else's.

"The instructions for the tasks the Champions will have to face this year have already been examined by Mrs Clutch and Miss Baxter," said Crighton, as Match placed the chest carefully on the table before her, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways ... their magical prowess - their daring - their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger.

"As you know, three champions compete in the Tournament," Crighton went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks, and the Champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The Champions will be chosen by an impartial selector ... the Goblet of Fire."

Crighton took out her wand, and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Crighton reached inside it, and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable, had it not been full to the brim with dancing, blue-white flames.

Crighton closed the casket and placed the Goblet carefully on top of it, where it was clearly visible to all of us in the Hall.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly on a strip of parchment, and drop it into the Goblet," said Crighton. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Hallowe'en, the Goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The Goblet will be placed in the Entrance Hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Crighton, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the Entrance Hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this Tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a Champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the Tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the Goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are whole-heartedly prepared to play, before you drop your name into the Goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Goodnight to you all."

"An Age Line!" said Tanya Fang, her eyes glinting, as we all made our way across the Hall to the doors into the Entrance Hall. "Well, that should be fooled by an Ageing Potion, shouldn't it? And once your name's in that Goblet, you're laughing - it can't tell whether you're seventeen or not!"

"But I don't think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance," said Sian, "we just haven't learned enough ..."

"Speak for yourself," said Geri shortly. "You'll try and get in, won't you, Kiara."

I thought briefly of Crighton's insistence that nobody under seventeen should submit their name, but then the wonderful picture of myself winning the Triwizard Cup filled my mind again ... I wondered how angry Crighton would be if someone younger than seventeen did find a way to get over the Age Line ...

"Where is he?" said Chrissie, who wasn't listening to a word of this conversation, but looking through the crowd to see what had become of Outsider. "Ma didn't say where the Uagadou people are sleeping, did she?"

But this query was answered almost instantly; we were level with the Snake-Eyes table now, and Kula had just bustled up to her students.

"Back to the submarine, then," she was saying. "Kovu, how are you feeling? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?"

I saw Outsider shake his head as he pulled his furs back on.

"Professor, _I_ would like some wine," said one of the Uagadou girls.

"I wasn't offering it to you, Pienaar," snapped Kula, her warmly paternal air vanishing in an instant. "I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting girl - "

Kula turned and led her students towards the doors, reaching them at exactly the same moment as Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I did. I stopped to let her walk through first.

"Thank you," said Kula carelessly, glancing at me.

And then Kula froze. She turned her head back to me, and stared at me as though she couldn't believe her eyes. Behnind her Headmistress, the students from Uagadou came to a halt, too. Kula's eyes moved slowly up my face, and fixed upon my scar. The Uagadou students were staring curiously at me, too. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw comprehension dawn on a few of their faces. The girl with food all down her front nudged the boy next to her and pointed openly at my forehead. I was starting to feel rather embarrassed, when Sian gasped unexpectedly from behind me.

I looked at Sian, but she wasn't looking at Kula. I followed her eyes and saw that she was looking at a boy who was standing right behind Outsider. Nothing was spectacular about him, apart from the fact that he had two big pieces of cloth of a deep red colour, that were wrapped around his face and head, and were pinned together at the tops of his ears. All that could be seen were his eyes, which were sharp, small, round and of a light shade of amber - a shade that was somehow familiar to me. I thought that this was odd, but then I reasoned with myself that there was obviously a reason for this, just like Sian with her gloves. I was about to ask Sian why she had gasped, when a voice behind us growled -

"Yeah, that's Kiara Pride-Lander."

This brought me back to my senses, and I looked back at Kula, who had spun around. Crazy-Head Grumpy was standing there, leaning heavily on her staff, her four magical eyes glaring unblinkingly at the Uagadou Headmistress.

The colour drained from Kula's face as I watched. A terrible look of mingled fury and fear came over her face.

"You!" she said, staring at Grumpy as though unsure she was really seeing her.

"Me," said Grumpy grimly. "And unless you've got anything to say to Pride-Lander, Kula, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway."

It was true; half the students in the Hall were now waiting behind us, looking over each other's shoulders to see what was closing the hold-up.

Without another word, Professor Kula swept her students away with her. Grumpy watched her out of sight, her magical eyes fixed upon her back, a look of intense dislike upon her mutilated face.

As Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I went up the stairs to Lion-Heart Tower, not long after what I reported above had occurred, I turned to Sian, who had a small, sentimental smile playing across her face, and asked her, "Why did you gasp at that boy next to Outsider, Sian?"

"Hmm?" asked Sian absent-mindedly. "Oh, no reason, Kiara. It just came as a shock to me that all of his face was covered except his eyes, that's all."

But there was something about Sian's tone - and the sentimental smile that was playing across her face again - that didn't exactly convince me that what she was saying was the full truth.

0000

 **A.N.: So, I hoped you all enjoyed this chapter. I loved writing about the Guardians and their powers. For any of you who are familiar with a cartoon and comic series W.I.T.C.H. and the House of Night series, then you will know what that means. Also, the lyrics that you see above are from the song _"We Are WITCH"_ by Marion Raven, which is the theme song to the programme which I mentioned above. I used them because they seem fitting, not only to the Guardians, but also to the story itself. I also think it's the American version. Anyhoo, I decided to split this chapter up into two, because of it's length, because of the Guardians, and because of the love story in this book, which has started, and will be further explored next chapter, which I will hopefully be posting tomorrow. Hope you enjoyed reading this one.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

 **The Champions Selection**

 **KIARA**

The next day, even though it was a school day, Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I went down to breakfast much earlier than we usually would on a normal school day. When we went down into the Entrance Hall, we saw about twenty people milling around it, some of them eating toast, all of them examining the Goblet of Fire. It had been placed in the centre of the Entrance Hall on the stool that students normally sat on to be Sorted. A thin, golden line had been traced on the floor, forming a circle ten feet around it in every direction.

"Anyone put their name in yet?" Chris asked a third-year boy eagerly.

"All the Uagadou lot," he replied. "But I haven't seen anyone from Dragon Mort yet."

"Bet some of them put in last night after we all went to bed," I said. "I would've done it if it had been me ... wouldn't have wanted anyone watching. What if the Goblet just gobbed you right back out again?"

Someone laughed behind me. Turning, I saw Tanya, Geri and Leah Jones hurrying down the staircase, all three of them looking extremely excited.

"Done it," Tanya said in a triumphant whisper to Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I. "Just taken it."

"What?" said Chrissie.

"The Ageing Potion, dungbrains," said Tanya.

"One drop each," said Geri, rubbing her hands together with glee. "We only need to be a few months older."

"We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," said Leah, grinning broadly.

"I'm not sure this is going to work, you know," said Sian warningly. "I'm sure Ma will have thought of this."

Tanya, Geri and Leah ignored her.

"Ready?" Tanya said to the other two, quivering with excitement. "C'mon, then - I'll go first - "

I watched, fascinated, as Tanya pulled out a slip of parchment out of her pocket, bearing the words "Tanya Fang - Dragon Mort". Tanya walked right up to the edge of the line, and stood there, rocking on her toes like a diver preparing for a fifty-foot drop. Then, with the eyes of every person in the Entrance Hall upon her, she took a deep breath and stepped over the line.

For a split second, I thought it had worked - Geri certainly thought so, for she let out a yell of triumph and leapt after Tanya - but next moment, there was a loud sizzling sound, and both twins were hurled out of the golden circle as though they had been thrown by an invisible shot-putter. They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and to add insult to injury, there was a loud popping noise, and both of them sprouted identical, long white beards.

The Entrance Hall rang with laughter, but Tanya and Geri, after they had got to their feet and had examined each others beards, for once did not laugh at the joke. Instead, they were both fuming and their cheeks were red from embarrassment, as everyone kept laughing.

"I did warn you," said a soft, amused voice, and we all turned to see Professor Crighton coming out of the Great Hall. She surveyed Tanya and Geri, her eyes twinkling, wearing an expression that was somewhere between amusement and pity. "I suggest the pair of you go to Matron. She is already tending to Mr Fawbert of Raven-Wings, and Miss Sumner of Badger-Stripes, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little, too. Though I must say, neither of their beards are nowhere near as fine as yours."

Tanya and Geri set off for the hospital wing, accompanied by Leah, who was howling with laughter, as Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I, also chortling, went into breakfast.

The decorations in the Great Hall had been changed that morning. As it was Hallowe'en, a cloud of live bats were fluttering around the enchanted ceiling, while hundreds of carved pumpkins leered from every corner. I led the way over to Dena and Zara, who were discussing those Dragon Mort students of seventeen or over who might be entering.

"There's a rumour going round. Warner got up early and put her name in," Dena told me. "That big girl from Snake-Eyes."

I had played against Warner in Quidditch, and I couldn't stand the idea of a Snake-Eyes Champion, never mind Warrington; so I shook my head, and said, "We can't have a Snake-Eyes Champion!"

"And all the Badger-Stripes are talking about Diggs," said Zara contemptuously. "But I wouldn't have thought she'd wanted to risk her good looks."

"Listen!" said Sian suddenly.

People were cheering out in the Entrance Hall. We all swivelled around in our seats and saw Andrew Johnstone coming into the Great Hall, grinning in an embarrassed sort of way. A tall, black boy who played Chaser on the Lion-Heart Quidditch team, Andrew came over to us, sat down and said, "Well, I've done it" Just put my name in!"

"You're kidding?" said Chrissie, looking impressed.

"Are you seventeen, then?" I asked.

"'Course he is. Can't see a beard, can you?" said Chris.

"I had my birthday last week," said Andrew.

"Well, I'm glad someone from Lion-Heart's entering," said Sian. "I really hope you get it, Andrew!"

"Thanks, Sian," said Andrew, smiling at her.

"Yeah, better you than all-looks Diggs," said Zara, causing several Badger-Stripes passing our table to scowl heavily at her.

"So, shall we get our things for class, then?" Chris asked Sian, Chrissie and I, when we had finished breakfast and were leaving the Great Hall.

"Hey, Chrissie," I said suddenly. "It's your friend ..."

The students from Beauxbatons were coming through the front doors from the grounds, among them, the Coltee boy. Those gathered around the Goblet of Fire stood back to let them pass, watching eagerly.

Monsieur Legrand entered the Hall behind his students and organised them into a line. One by one, the Beauxbatons students stepped across the Age Line and dropped their slips of parchment into the blue-white flames. As each one entered the fire, it turned briefly red and emitted sparks.

"What d'you reckon'll happen to the ones that aren't chosen?" Chrissie muttered to me, as the Coltee boy dropped his parchment into the Goblet of Fire. "Reckon they'll go back to school, or hang around to watch the Tournament?"

"Dunno," I said. "Hang around, I suppose ... Monsieur Legrand is staying to judge, isn't he?"

When all the Beauxbatons students had submitted their names, Monsieur Legrand led them back out of the Hall and into the grounds again.

"Where are they sleeping, then?" said Chris, as we watched the Beauxbatons students go.

"Why, back to their carriage, of course," Sian answered. "I mean, where else do you imagine they'll sleep?"

Chris, Chrissie and I could come up with no answer for this, and we were about to walk up the stairs, when I noticed that Sian was not following us. Instead, she was staring fascinatedly at the boy with cloths covering his face that we had briefly seen the night before. I also saw that he was staring back at Sian with the same amount of interest. Chris and Chrissie noticed the way Sian was looking at the boy too and, judging from the looks on their faces, I gathered that they had never seen Sian look at anyone the way she looked at him, before or since. It was only when the boy turned his head to Outsider (who had just come in from the grounds), that Sian seemed to come out of her trance, for she shook her head a few times, turned round to look at us, and was surprised to see the three of us looking at her, stunned.

After a few moments of stunned silence had passed between us, I saw that Sian chose to ignore Chris and Chrissie, and turned to me and said, "Kiara, would you mind getting my bag and bring it down for me?"

I was shocked at her question, but I didn't push, for I knew that Sian wouldn't want to be pushed for an answer, so I just nodded. Sian smiled in acknowledgement and then went back to looking at the boy. Chris and Chrissie tried to argue, but I shook my head before they could say anything, and I led the way up the stairs, leaving Sian on her own in the Entrance Hall.

 **SIAN**

Sian was glad when Chris, Chrissie and Kiara had gone, for she could be undisturbed with her thoughts about the boy with the cloths on his face for a few minutes. She was confused by him, for never before, when a guy had looked at her, had she felt enchanted by him. Yet she felt enchanted when this boy looked at her, but she didn't understand why at this moment.

As she looked at him, she saw him conversing with Outsider, and wondered what connection this boy and Outsider shared. As she looked, she saw them whispering convulsively, and every now and then, one or the other, or sometimes both of them, would look over at her. She wondered why they were whispering about her in such a way, but didn't have to wonder for long, for the next thing Sian knew, Outsider had come running up to her, his dark green eyes glinting mischievously. Just behind him, Sian could see that the boy with the cloths was trying to stop him, but it was too late.

"Hey," he said to her, with an African twang to his voice.

"Hi," said Sian, taken aback by how strongly he had approached her.

"So ..." Outsider went on, rather nervously, "you're the Earth Guardian, aren't you?"

Sian sighed in annoyance, for she should have known that those who were new to the school would have told her that. Outsider though, quickly picking up on her mood, tried to apologise for what he had just said, but Sian quickly brushed it off, saying that it was all right, because they had just met. They smiled friendly at each other.

"So, why did you come over to me?" said Sian, getting back to the point, for she was curious as to why he would approach her, and for what purpose.

Outsider said rather nervously, "Well ... you see my brother - "

"Brother?" Sian questioned, looking over at the boy with the cloths covering his face. Outsider seemed to understand her confusion, for he said, "I mean, _adopted_ brother."

"Oh," Sian said, as realisation hit her. "That makes much more sense."

Outsider chuckled and then went on to say, "Anyway, my brother is interested in you ..."

"Really?" said Sian, trying to hide a smile, but not quite succeeding.

"Really," said a muffled voice behind Outsider. Outsider moved away, and Sian saw the boy with the cloths on his face looking at her, his light amber eyes sparkling.

Sian felt a delicate blush rise to her cheeks and her heart beat furiously, as she said in quite a breathy voice, "Hi."

"Hi," the boy said back. He then said, "I liked the show you and your friends - "

"Sisters," Sian said quickly.

"What?" the boy said, surprised.

"They're my sisters, not my friends - although, in a way, they are, so ..." Sian explained, shrugging.

"Oh - well, the show you and your _sisters_ put on last night," the boy said. "I've never seen anything like that before. The five of you are very talented."

"Thank you," said Sian, her cheeks getting pinker as he spoke. "So ... did you put your name in?"

"Yeah," the boy said in an offhanded way, and also in quite a bored way, too, Sian thought, for she thought that he would have been pleased for this.

"Well ... don't you want to do this?" Sian asked him nervously.

"Nah. I was forced into it by my brother and Kula, so that's why I'm here. But I'd much rather be a spectator." He sighed before he continued, "I just hope my brother gets it. I'll be supportive of him if he does."

"Really?"

"Sure. Besides, all of us who are here are saying that he will be chosen as Champion. So, how about you? Have you put your name in yet?"

Sian was taken aback by this, which was shown in the way she answered: "No."

This time, it was the boy's turn to look surprised, as he looked Sian up and down, and that's when she realised why he had asked her if she had put her name in; after all, she knew that she was tall for her age, and that was why he thought that she was older. She put the boy out of his confusing thoughts by saying, "Look, I've always been tall for my age. You're not the first, and nor will you be the last person to mistake my age - much like how people always mispronounce my name when I tell them it - never you fear. Oh, and I'm fourteen, by the way," she added as an afterthought, and she also said this to get the confused look out of the boy's eyes, which looked shocked at what he had just heard.

"I'm sorry," the boy said quickly, "I didn't mean to offend you or anything. I just - "

"Hey, don't worry about it," said Sian, brushing it off politely. The boy breathed a sigh of relief, and Sian saw a smile shine in his eyes.

"So," Sian then said, wanting to change the subject, "I'm guessing the cloths you wear to cover your face are part of a secret reason as to why you are Outsider's adoptive brother, huh?"

The boy's eyes widened in shock. "How did you know that?" he asked her, his eyes narrowing shrewdly.

Sian looked away from his eyes, rather uncomfortable at what she had said, and ashamed of herself for asking a rather personal question. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "I only said what I said because I'm highly initiative. I didn't mean to pry. Don't worry, I won't say anything, though."

"You won't?" the boy asked her. Sian looked back up into his eyes and saw a desperate, questioning look in them. She smiled gently and reassuringly at him and said, "Trust me when I say, I can keep a secret. I mean, don't get me wrong, I am curious about it ... but I'll wait until you want to tell me the reason why."

"Really?" the boy asked, like a child asking for reassurance from his mother, which Sian, surprisingly, found rather cute.

Hiding a small chuckle, she answered, "Yes, really. I mean, you're a mystery, aren't you?"

She saw the cogs whirring through his mind through his eyes for a few moments, before he said, "Yes, I suppose I am - just like you are with those heavy, blue leather gloves."

The smile faded from Sian's face, as she looked down at her hands which were covered in the gloves, and started to rub them absent-mindedly. Then she looked back up at the boy's face and said, "It's best if I keep them on." The boy's eyes seemed to smile in understanding, and she smiled at him in acknowledgement.

"Hey, S.D.?" a voice called from behind her. Sian turned around and saw Chris, Chrissie and Kiara coming down the stairs again, with Kiara carrying her bag. Had it really only been a few minutes since she had last seen them?

"Here's your bag," Kiara said, handing Sian her stuff. She then looked at the boy and said a quick "Hi," to him, and he nodded his head at her in return. Kiara then turned to Sian. "We gotta get to History of Magic - "

"Don't worry, Kiara, I'll catch up with you shortly. I won't be late," Sian said. Kiara was surprised at this, and Sian knew why, for it was so unlike her to not get to class early, but Sian wanted to say farewell to her new friend first, so she watched Chris, Chrissie and Kiara head upstairs to History of Magic before she turned back to the boy, whose eyes looked at her surprised again.

"What?" Sian asked him.

"You know Kiara?" the boy asked slowly, and she could see his mind wondering again. "As in ... Kiara _Pride-Lander_?"

"Yes," said Sian slowly. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason," the boy said quickly - a little too quickly, for Sian's liking; but before she could focus on this point for too long, the boy then said, with a mocking look in his eyes, "Uh - "S.D."?"

"Oh, nickname," Sian shrugged. The cloths covering the boy's face flapped back and forth as he nodded his head in understanding.

"Listen, I'd love to stay here and chat more with you, but I really have to get to class, but I'd like to talk to you more later, if that's all right with you?" Sian said quickly, so as not to see a disappointed look in the boy's eyes.

Sian needn't have worried, for the boy said, "I'd love that," his eyes shining in a way that made Sian's heart flutter.

"Well, I'll see you later, then," she said, but before she could turn, the boy had reached out and grabbed her hand. As soon as he did this, they both gasped, for it felt as though a force, stronger than being struck by a lightning bolt, hot them both at the exact same moment their hands touched. Each saw bright colours and shadows of memories swirling, connecting, stronger than anything either of them had ever felt before -

And then they let go, and it stopped. Sian and the boy were both breathing heavily, as though they had both run a mile.

"W - what was ... that?" said the boy breathlessly.

"I - I don't know," Sian said just as breathlessly, but of course, she did know; for what had just happened was that a Soul Bond had just been formed by she and this boy.

Sian then quickly pulled herself back together, and said to him, "See you later." The boy nodded, and Sian walked away. Before she had reached the stairs, she heard the boy call, "Hey!"

Sian turned back to him and said, "Yeah?"

"What's your name?"

Sian smiled sweetly at him, blushed fervently and said, "Sian! What's yours?"

Even from where she stood, she could see the smile in his eyes as he answered, "Kopa!"

Sian smiled sweetly at him a little longer, before she said, "Laters, Kopa!" before she turned and headed up the stairs. She wasn't sure whether she imagined it or not, but she was sure she heard Kopa's muffled voice say to Outsider, "She's cute."

Sian's smile grew louder, as she giggled secretly to herself. Maybe, Sian thought, just maybe, this year might be better than the last few had been, and all because of this boy: Kopa.

 **KIARA**

I remember how classes went rather slowly that day, for everyone wanted the school day to be over with, just so we could get to dinner that night. Even Sian seemed rather preoccupied, but I guessed this had to do with the boy she had met that morning, for not only did she have a sweet little smile playing about her face, a smile that I had never seen before he came (and coincidentally, it's the one she uses just for him), but there was also the fact that she kept looking at one of her hands, and kept rubbing the fingers of that hand. I was still surprised that she had told Chris, Chrissie and I to go on ahead of her, because it was so unlike her. Chris and Chrissie were shocked by this, too, but when we saw her coming towards us, looking happier than any of us had ever seen her, my mind went back to the boy that she had been with that morning, and that's when it hit me: Sian had her first crush (well, I was kind of right).

Anyhoo, everyone was glad when the bell rang for dinner that night. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I dashed to Lion-Heart Tower to deposit our bags before we hurried down to dinner in the Great Hall, and we were not alone; everyone was excited for the unveiling of the Champions, and that's why, when Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I arrived in the Entrance Hall, we found that it was packed with people, all of them trying to get into the Great Hall at once. Amongst the throng was Mina, who was on the arm of Monsieur Legrand, who were leading the Beauxbatons students into the Great Hall, followed by Kula and the Uagadou lot. Chris and Chrissie watched rather excitedly, but Outsider didn't look at either of them, although the boy with the cloths covering his face did look at Sian and waved at her. She in turn blushed and gave a shy wave back.

When we (finally) entered, the candlelit Great Hall was almost full. The Goblet of Fire had been moved; it was now standing in front of Crighton's empty chair at the teachers' table. Tanya and Geri - clean-shaven again - seemed to have taken their disappointment fairly well.

"Hope it's Andrew," said Tanya, as Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I sat down.

"So do I!" said Sian breathlessly. "Well, we'll know soon enough!"

The Hallowe'en feast seemed to take much longer than usual. Perhaps because it was our second feast in two days, I didn't seem to fancy the extravagantly prepared food as much as I would have normally done. Like everyone else in the Hall, judging by the constant craning necks, the impatient expressions on every face, the fidgeting and the standing up to see whether Crighton had finished eating yet, I simply waited for the plates to clear, and to hear who had been selected as the Champions.

At long last, the silver plates returned to their original spotless state; there was then a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Crighton got to her feet. On either side of her, Professor Kula and Monsieur Legrand looked as tense and expectant as everyone else did. Lynn Baxter was beaming and winking at certain students. Mrs Clutch, however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored.

"Well, the Goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Crighton. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber - " she indicated the door behind the staff table, " - where they will be receiving their first instructions."

She took out her wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging us all into a state of semi-darkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall; the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames were almost painful on the eyes. We all watched, waiting ... a few people kept checking their watches ...

"Any second," Leah Jones whispered, two seats away from me.

The flames inside the Goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it - the whole room gasped.

Crighton caught the parchment and held it at arm's length, so that she could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.

"The Champion for Uagadou," she read, in a strong, clear voice, "is Kovu Outsider!"

"No surprise there!" yelled Chrissie, as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. I saw Kovu Outsider rise from the Snake-Eyes table and stride up towards Crighton; he turned right, walked along the staff table and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.

"Bravo, Kovu!" boomed Kula, so loudly that we all heard her, even over the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"

The clapping and chatting died down. Our attention was focused once again on the Goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.

"The Champion for Beauxbatons," said Crighton, "is Ferdinand Desjardins!"

"It's him, Chrissie!" I shouted, as the boy who so resembled a Coltee got gracefully to his feet, shook back his sheet of black hair and swept up between the Raven-Wings and Badger-Stripes tables.

"Oh, look, they're disappointed," Chris said over the noise, nodding towards the remainder of the Beauxbatons party. "Disappointed" was a bit of an understatement, I thought; two of the boys who had not been selected were ignoring everyone in the Hall, staring down at their plates with sour expressions fixed on their faces.

When Ferdinand Desjardins, too, had disappeared into the inside chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement that you could almost taste it. The Dragon Mort Champion was next ...

And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of the end of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip, Crighton pulled the third piece of parchment.

"The Dragon Mort Champion," she called, "is Georgia Diggs!"

"No!" said Chrissie loudly, but nobody except for myself heard her; the uproar from the next table was too great. Every single Badger-Stripes student had jumped to their feet, screaming and stamping, as Georgia made her way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off towards the chamber behind the teachers' table. Indeed, the applause for Georgia went on so long that it was some time before Crighton could make herself heard again.

"Excellent!" Crighton called happily, as the last of the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three Champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Uagadou, to give your Champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your Champion on, you will contribute in a very real - "

But Crighton suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to all of us what had distracted her. This distraction, coincidentally, changed the course of my fourth year - and my life, for that matter - though I didn't know it yet.

For you see, the fire in the Goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.

Automatically, it seemed, Crighton reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. She held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Crighton stared at the slip in her hands, and everyone in the room stared at Crighton. And then, Crighton cleared her throat and read out -

 _"Kiara Pride-Lander."_


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

 **The Four Champions (Again)**

 **KIARA**

I sat there, aware that every head in the Great Hall had turned to look at me. I was stunned. I felt numb. I felt like I was dreaming, and thought that I couldn't possibly have heard Crighton properly.

There was no applause for me. A buzzing, as though of angry bees, was starting to fill the Hall; some students were standing up to get a better look at me, as I sat, frozen, in my seat.

Up at the top table, Professor Darbus had got to her feet and swept past Lynn Baxter and Professor Kula to whisper urgently to Professor Crighton, who lent her ear towards her, frowning slightly.

I turned to Chris, Sian and Chrissie; beyond them, I saw that everyone else at the Lion-Heart table was watching me, open-mouthed.

"I didn't put my name in," I said blankly. "You know I didn't."

My three friends stared just as blankly back.

At the top table, Professor Crighton had straightened up, nodding to Professor Darbus.

"Kiara Pride-Lander!" she called again. "Kiara! Up here, if you please!"

"Go on," Sian whispered, giving me a slight push.

I got to my feet, trod on the hem of my robes and stumbled slightly. I set off up the gap between the Lion-Heart and Badger-Stripes tables. It felt like an immensely long walk; I remember how the top table didn't seem to be getting nearer at all, and how the hundreds and hundreds of eyes gazed at me, as though each was a searchlight. The buzzing grew louder and louder. After what seemed like an hour, I was right in front of Crighton, feeling the stares of all the teachers upon me.

"Well ... through the door, Kiara," said Crighton. That time, though, she wasn't smiling.

I moved off along the teachers' table. Mina was sat right at the end. She did not wink at me, or wave, or give any of her usual signs of greeting. She looked completely astonished, and just stared at me as she passed, like everyone else did. I went through the door out of the Great Hall, and found myself in a smaller room, lined with paintings of witches and wizards. A handsome fire was roaring in the fireplace opposite me.

The faces in the portraits turned to look at me as I entered. I saw a wizened wizard flit out of the frame of his picture and into the one next to it, which contained a witch with round, sharp, hawk-like eyes. The wizened wizard started whispering in her ear.

Kovu Outsider, Georgia Diggs and Ferdinand Desjardins were grouped around the fire. They looked strangely impressive silhouetted against the flames. Outsider, hunched-up and brooding, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from the other two. Georgia was standing with her hands clasped in front of her, staring into the fire. Ferdinand Desjardins looked around when I walked in and threw back his sheet of long, black hair.

"What is it?" he said. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"

He thought that I had come to deliver a message. I didn't know how to explain what had just happened. I just stood there, looking at the three Champions. It struck me at that moment how small I felt, standing in front of these three big-shots.

There was then the sound of scurrying feet behind me, and Lynn Baxter entered the room. She took me by the arm and led me forwards.

"Extraordinary!" she muttered, squeezing my arm. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen ... lady," she added, approaching the fireside and addressing the other three. "May I introduce - incredible though it may seem - and the second time this has happened - the _fourth_ Triwizard Champion!"

Kovu Outsider straightened up. His face darkened, his hair stood on end and he growled at me, showing me his teeth. I flinched slightly at the look on his face, for he truly looked like a lion ready to pounce. Georgia looked nonplussed. She looked from Baxter to me, and back again as though sure she must have misheard what Baxter had said. Ferdinand Desjardins, however, shook back his hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Mees Baxter."

"Joke?" Baxter repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Kiara's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"

The growl eased in Outsider's throat, as his mouth formed itself into a sneer, and his eyebrows contracted slightly. Georgia still looked politely bewildered.

Ferdinand frowned. "But evidently zair has been a mistake," he said contemptuously to Baxter. "She cannot compete. She is too young."

"Well, it is amazing," said Baxter, putting an index finger on her chin and smiling down at me. "After all, a four Champion Triwizard Tournament has only happened once before, as all of you well know ... but, it is what it is. And remember, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as her name's come out of the Goblet ... I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage ... it's down in the rules, you're obliged ... Kiara will just have to do the best she - "

The door behind us opened again, and a large group of people came in: Professor Crighton, with Sian right behind her (I suspect that Crighton asked her to come in with her), followed closely by Mrs Clutch, Professor Kula, Monsieur Legrand, Professor Darbus and Professor Triphorm. I heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall, before Professor Darbus closed the door.

"Monsieur Legrand!" said Ferdinand at once, striding over to his headmaster. "Zey are saying zat zis little girl is to compete also!"

I remember that I was dumb in disbelief still when he said this; but I felt shock and anger at what Ferdinand had just called me. _Little girl?_ I was fourteen at this point, for crying out loud!

Monsieur Legrand had drawn himself up to his full, and considerable, height. The top of his handsome head brushed the candle-filled chandelier, and his gigantic black suited chest swelled.

"What is ze meaning of zis, Crighton?" he said imperiously.

"I'd rather like to know that myself, Crighton," said Professor Kula. She was wearing a steely smile, and her blue eyes were like chips of ice. " _Two_ Dragon Mort Champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions - or have I not read the rules carefully enough?" She gave a short nasty laugh.

 _"C'est impossible,"_ said Monsieur Legrand, whose enormous hand, with its few superb opals, was resting upon Ferdinand's shoulder. "Dragon Mor' cannot 'ave two champions. It is most unjust."

"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Crighton," said Kula, her steely smile still in place, though her eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."

"It's no one's fault but Pride-Lander's, Kula," said Triphorm softly. Her ice-blue eyes were alive with malice. "Don't go blaming Crighton for Pride-Lander's determination to break rules. She has been crossing lines ever since she arrived here - "

"Thank you, Tiana," said Crighton firmly, and Triphorm went quiet, though her eyes still glinted malevolently through her curtain of greasy strawberry-blonde hair.

Professor Crighton was now looking down at me, and I looked right back at her, all the while trying to discern the expression of her eyes, which to me were blinded from the light of the fire.

"Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire, Kiara?" said Crighton calmly.

"No," I said. I was aware of everybody watching me closely. Triphorm made a soft noise of impatient disbelief in the shadows.

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" said Professor Crighton, ignoring Triphorm.

 _"No,"_ I said vehemently.

"Ah, but of course she is lying!" cried Monsieur Legrand. Triphorm was now shaking her head, her lip curling.

"She could not have crossed the Age Line!" said Professor Darbus sharply. "I am sure we are all agreed on that - "

"Crighton must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Monsieur Legrand, shrugging.

"It is possible, of course," said Crighton politely.

"Crighton, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" said Professor Darbus angrily. "Really, what nonsense! Kiara could not have crossed the line herself, and as Professor Crighton believes that she did not persuade an older student to do it for her, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!"

She shot an angry look at Professor Triphorm.

"I'd like to say something here, if none of you mind?" asked Sian from next to me, in a rather small voice than I was used to, which was understandable when you consider the fact that a half-giant and two Ministry officials were in the room (we'll get to the half-giant stuff later). Anyhoo, we all turned to look at her, and a blush spread over her face, as she seemed to crouch down slightly. She looked more like a child than I had ever seen before that point. She quickly regained her composure though, taking a deep breath as she did so - though the blush was still on her face - and turned to her mother, with a questioning look on her face; it was like she was asking Crighton whether she should proceed, and to her relief, Crighton gave her a small, reassuring smile, which Sian took as a sign that she should continue, so she took a few deep breaths and said, "Well, Kiara and I are in the same year, and intelligent as I am, I wouldn't even know how to hoodwink the Goblet of Fire, and I didn't help her put her name in, either. So, taking all that I've just said into account, if Kiara or myself couldn't figure out a way to hoodwink the Goblet in order to put our names in, then who's to say that any other underage student would know?" she finished, looking pointedly at all the adults in the room.

They all seemed rather taken aback by what Sian had just said. Monsieur Legrand's eyebrows shot up at Sian's logical reasoning. Kula huffed and shook her head, turning it to the side, completely unnerved. Triphorm's smile had faded from her mouth, stunned, as it seemed, by Sian's intelligence. Only Professor Darbus and Professor Crighton both seemed to be thrilled with Sian's logic. Professor Darbus said in a smug "I told you so" type voice to Triphorm, "She does have a point," and Crighton simply smiled at her daughter, giving her a small wink. Sian just smiled and blinked back at her. I touched Sian's arm, and she turned her head towards me. I gave her a smile of gratitude, and she smiled back at me in understanding, patting my hand as she did so. "Well, at least there's one person here who believes me," I remember thinking at that moment.

"Mrs Clutch ... Miss Baxter," said Kula after a few moments, her voice unctuous once more, "you are our - er - objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"

Baxter wiped her round, girlish face with her handkerchief and looked at Mrs Clutch, who was standing outside the circle of firelight, her face half-hidden in shadow. She looked slightly eerie, the half-darkness making her look much older, giving her an almost skull-like appearance. When she spoke, however, it was in her usual, curt voice. "We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names came out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the Tournament."

"Well, Beatrice knows the rulebook back to front," said Baxter, beaming and turning back to Kula and Monsieur Legrand, as though the matter was now resolved.

"I insist upon you resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Kula. She had dropped her unctuous tone and her smile now. Her face wore a very ugly look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two competitors. It's only fair, Crighton."

"But Kula, it doesn't work like that," said Baxter. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out - it won't reignite until the start of the next Tournament - "

" - in which Uagadou will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Kula. "We shall go back to competing for a Potions trophy! After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"

"Empty threat, Kula," growled a voice from near the door. "You can't leave your Champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Crighton said. Convenient, eh?"

Grumpy had just entered the room. She limped towards the fire, and with every right step she took, there was a loud _clunk_.

"Convenient?" said Kula. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Grumpy."

I could tell that she was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Grumpy was saying was barely worth her notice, but her hands gave her away; they had balled themselves into fists.

"Don't you?" said Grumpy quietly. "It's very simple, Kula. Someone put Pride-Lander's name in that Goblet, knowing she'd have to compete if it came out."

"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give Dragon Mor' two bites at ze apple!" said Monsieur Legrand.

"I quite agree, Monsieur Legrand," said Kula, curtseying to him. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards - "

"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Pride-Lander," growled Grumpy, "but ... funny thing ... I don't hear _her_ saying a word ..."

"Why should she complain?" burst out Ferdinand Desjardins, stamping his foot. "She 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't she? We've all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honour for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money - zis is a chance many would die for!"

"Maybe someone's hoping Pride-Lander _is_ going to die for it," said Grumpy, with the merest trace of a growl.

An extremely tense silence followed these words.

Lynn Baxter, who looked very anxious indeed at this comment, bounced nervously up and down on her feet, and said, "Grumpy, old girl ... what a thing to say!"

"We all know Professor Grumpy considers the morning wasted if she hasn't discovered six plots to murder her before lunchtime," said Kula loudly. "Apparently, she is now teaching her students to fear assassination, too. An odd quality in a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Crighton, but no doubt you had your reasons."

"Imagining things, am I?" growled Grumpy. "Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the girl's name in that Goblet ..."

"Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?" said Monsieur Legrand, throwing up his huge hands.

"Have you not listened to everything the Eldest Dawson Girl said? Yes, I heard you," Grumpy barked, not bothering to turn and look at Sian, who had a questioning look on her face, which was quickly brushed off as her question was answered. Grumpy then continued, "She's right. Whoever put Pride-Lander's name in had hoodwinked a very powerful magical object! It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that Goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the Tournament ... I'm guessing they submitted Pride-Lander's name under a fourth school, to make sure she was the only one in her category ..."

"You seem to have given this a fair deal of thought, Grumpy," said Kula coldly, "and a very ingenious theory it is - though of course, I heard you recently got it into your head that one of your birthday presents contained a cunningly disguised basilisk egg, and smashed it to pieces before realising it was a carriage clock. So you'll understand if we don't take you entirely seriously ..."

"There are those who'll turn innocent occasions to their advantage," Grumpy retorted in a menacing voice. "It's my job to think the way Dark wizards do, Kula - as you ought to remember ..."

"Aoife!" said Crighton warningly. I wondered for a moment whom she was speaking to, but then I realised that "Crazy-Head" could hardly be Grumpy's real first name. Grumpy fell silent, though still surveying Kula with satisfaction - Kula's face was burning.

"How this situation arose, we do not know," said Crighton, speaking to everyone in the room. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Georgia and Kiara have been chosen to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. Thus, therefore, they will do ..."

"Ah, but Crighton ..."

"My dear Monsieur Legrand, if you have an alternative, I would love to hear it."

Crighton waited, but Monsieur Legrand did not speak, he merely glared. He wasn't the only one, either. Triphorm looked furious; Kula livid. Baxter, however, looked rather excited.

"Well, shall we crack on, then?" she said, rubbing her hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our Champions their instructions, haven't we? Beatrice, want to do the honours?"

Mrs Clutch seemed to come out of a deep reverie then.

"Yes," she said, "instructions. Yes ... the first task ..."

She moved forwards into the firelight. Up close, I thought she looked ill. There were dark shadows beneath her eyes, and she had a thin, papery look about her wrinkled skin that had not been there at the Quidditch Friendly.

"The first task is designed to test your daring," she told myself, Georgia, Ferdinand and Outsider, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard ... very important ...

"The first task will take place on November the twenty-seventh, in front of the other students and the panel of judges.

"The Champions are not permitted to ask for help or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the Tournament. The Champions will face their first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the Tournament, the Champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."

Mrs Clutch then turned to look at Crighton. "I think that's all, is it, Susan?"

"I think so," said Crighton, looking at Mrs Clutch with mild concern. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Dragon Mort tonight, Beatrice?"

"No, Crighton, I must get back to the Ministry," said Mrs Clutch. "It's a very busy, very difficult time at the moment ... I've left young Fans in charge ... very enthusiastic ... a little over-enthusiastic, if truth be told ..."

"Come on, Bes, I'm staying!" said Baxter brightly. "It's all happening at Dragon Mort now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!"

"I think not, Lynn," said Clutch, with a touch of her old impatience.

"Professor Kula - Monsieur Legrand - a nightcap?" said Crighton.

But Monsieur Legrand had already put his arm around Ferdinand's shoulders, and was leading him swiftly out of the room. I could hear them both talking very fast in French as they went off into the Great Hall. Kula beckoned to Outsider, and they, too, exited, though in silence.

"Kiara, Georgia, I suggest you go up to bed," said Crighton, smiling at the pair of us. "I am sure Lion-Heart and Badger-Stripes are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise. Sian," she then said, turning to her eldest daughter, "could you stay behind for a moment?"

"Of course, Ma," Sian said to her mother, before she turned back to me. "See you later," she muttered to me, and then gave a smile and a nod to Georgia before she turned back to her mother. I then glanced at Georgia, who nodded, and we left together.

By this time, the Great Hall was deserted; the candles had burnt low, giving the jagged smiles of the pumpkins an eerie, flickering quality.

"So," said Georgia, with a slight smile. "We're playing against each other again?"

"I s'pose," I said. I really couldn't think of anything to say. The inside of my head was in complete disarray, as though my brain had been ransacked.

"So ... tell me ..." said Georgia, as we reached the Entrance Hall, which was now lit only by the torches in the absence of the Goblet of Fire. "How did you get your name in?"

"I didn't," I said, staring up at her. "I didn't put it in. I was telling the truth."

"Ah ... OK," said Georgia. I could tell Georgia didn't believe me. "Well ... see you, then."

Instead of going up the marble staircase, Georgia headed for a door to its right. I stood listening to her going down the stone steps beyond it, then slowly, started to climb the marble ones.

I knew that Sian already believed me, but I wasn't sure who else would, except she, Chris and Chrissie. I wondered if Chris and Chrissie believed me, or would they think I put myself in for the Tournament? Yet how could anyone think that, when I was facing competitors who'd had three years' more magical education than I had - when I was now facing tasks which (as I thought, and correctly assumed, at the time) not only sounded very dangerous, but which were to be performed in front of hundreds of people? Yes, I admit, I had thought about it ... and had fantasised about it ... but it had been a joke, really, an idle sort of dream ... I'd never really, _seriously_ considered entering ...

But someone else had considered it ... someone else had wanted me in the Tournament, and had made sure I was entered. I asked myself two questions: 1. Why? and two, to give me a treat? I didn't know the answer to the first question (although I was going to find out by the end of my fourth year), but as for the second, somehow, I didn't think so ...

Then a third question came to my mind: to see me make a fool of myself? Well, as I so thought, they were likely to get their wish ...

But to get me _killed_? I wondered whether Grumpy was just being her usual paranoid self. I also wondered if someone had put my name in the Goblet as a trick or a practical joke, and whether anyone did really want me dead!

But I already knew that someone did want me dead, who had wanted me dead since before I was born ... Lady Zira. I then wondered how Zira had ensured that my name got into the Goblet of Fire, for I thought that Zira was meant to be far away in some distant country, in hiding, alone ... feeble and powerless ...

Yet in that dream I had had, just before I had awoken with my scar hurting, Zira had not been alone ... she had been talking to the Absters ... plotting my murder ...

I got a shock when I found myself stood in front of the Fat Lord so soon. I had barely noticed where my feet had been carrying me. It was also a surprise for me to see that he was not alone in his frame. The wizened wizard who had flitted into his neighbour's painting when I had joined the other Champions downstairs was sitting smugly beside the Fat Lord. I reckoned that he must have dashed through every picture lining seven staircases to reach the Fat Lord's portrait. Both of them looked down at me with keen interest.

"Well, well, well," said the Fat Lord, "Victor's just told me everything. Who's just been chosen as school Champion, then?"

"Balderdash," I said dully.

"It most certainly isn't!" said the pale wizard indignantly.

"No, no, Vic, it's the password," said the Fat Lord soothingly, and he swung forwards on his hinges to let me into the common room.

The blast of noise that met my ears when the portrait opened almost knocked me backwards. Next thing I knew, I was being wrenched inside the common room by about a dozen pairs of hands, and was facing the whole of Lion-Heart house, all of whom were screaming, applauding and whistling.

"You should've told us you'd entered!" bellowed Tanya; she looked half annoyed, half deeply impressed.

"How did you do it without getting a beard? Brilliant!" roared Geri.

"I didn't," I said. "I don't know how - "

But Andrew had swooped down upon me. "Oh, if it couldn't be me, at least it's a Lion-Heart - "

"You'll be able to pay back Diggs for that last Quidditch match, Kiara!" shouted Keith Ball, another of the Lion-Heart Chasers.

"We've got food, Kiara, come and have some - "

"I'm not hungry, I had enough at the feast - "

But nobody wanted to hear that I wasn't hungry; nobody wanted to hear that I hadn't put my name in the Goblet; not one single person there seemed to have noticed that I was in no mood to celebrate ... Leah Jones had unearthed a Lion-Heart banner from somewhere, and she insisted on draping it around me like a cloak. I couldn't get away; whenever I tried to sidle over to the staircase to the dormitories, the crowd around me closed ranks, forcing another Butterbeer on me, stuffing crisps and peanuts into my hands ... everyone wanted to know how I had done it, how I had tricked Crighton's Age Line and managed to get my name into the Goblet ...

"I didn't," I said, over and over again, "I don't know how it happened."

But for all the notice anyone took, it would have been better if I had not spoken at all.

"I'm tired!" I bellowed finally, after nearly half an hour. "No, seriously, Geri - I'm going to bed - "

I wanted more than anything to see Chrissie (Sian was still with Crighton, and I would have to wait until the following morning to speak to Chris) and find a bit of sanity, but she didn't seem to be in the common room. In fact, none of the Dawsons were. Insisting that I needed to sleep, and almost flattening the little McCreevy sisters as they attempted to way-lay me at the foot of the stairs, I managed to shake everyone off, climbed up the stairs to the dormitories, took the door to the left, climbed the stairs to the special bedroom where the Dawson sisters and myself all slept and stepped inside.

To my great relief, I found Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel and Merida inside. Beth, Kestrel and Merida were standing away from Chrissie, who was lying on her bed. All of them were still fully dressed, and looked at me when I came in. Beth, Kestrel and Merida were glancing nervously from Chrissie to me, and back again.

"Where've you been?" I said to Chrissie.

"Oh, hello," she said.

She was grinning, but it looked like a very odd, strange sort of grin. I suddenly became aware that I was still wearing the scarlet Lion-Heart banner that Leah had tied around me. I hastened to take it off, but it was knotted very tightly. After a little while, Merida took sympathy on me and helped me untie it, as Chrissie lay on her bed, watching us struggle.

"Thanks," I said to Merry, who looked at me with a smile, and this smile reached her eyes. I looked over at Beth and Kestrel, and saw that they were smiling true, genuine smiles of sympathy at me. I smiled at them, before myself and Merida walked over to where Beth and Kestrel stood, and the four of us looked at Chrissie.

"So," she said, after a few moments of silence had passed. "Congratulations."

"What d'you mean, congratulations?" I said, staring at Chrissie. There was definitely something wrong with the way Chrissie was smiling; it was more like a grimace. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Beth, Kestrel and Merida look at each other nervously.

"Well ... no one else got across the Age Line," said Chrissie. "Not even Tanya and Geri. What did you use - the Invisibility Cloak?"

"The Invisibility Cloak wouldn't have got me over that line," I said slowly.

"Oh, right," said Chrissie. "I thought you might've told me if it was the Cloak ... because it would've covered both of us, wouldn't it? But you found another way, did you?"

"Listen," I said, "I didn't put my name in that Goblet. Someone else must've done it."

Chrissie raised her eyebrows. "Why would they do that for?"

"I dunno," I said. I felt it would have sounded very melodramatic to say "to kill me".

Chrissie's eyebrows rose so high that they were in danger of disappearing into her hair.

"It's OK, you know, you can tell _me_ the truth," she said. "If you don't want everyone else to know, fine, but I don't know why you're bothering to lie; you didn't get into trouble for it, did you? that friend of the Fat Lord's, that Victor, he's already told us all that Ma's letting you enter. A thousand Galleons prize money, eh? And you don't have to do end-of-year tests, either ..."

"I didn't put my name in that Goblet!" I said, starting to feel angry. "I don't want eternal glory, Chrissie! I just - "

" - just want to be like everybody else. We know, Kiara," said a voice from the door as it closed.

We all turned around (Chrissie turned her head), and we saw Sian, leaning against the door, with a hurt look in her eyes.

"What's with you, Sian?" said Chrissie, almost carelessly on her bed.

Sian looked up at Chrissie, even more hurt and offended by her sister's tone. She then said rather haughtily, "If you _must_ know, Chrissie ... Ma and I have fallen out."

Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel, Merida and I were all shocked to hear this. Chrissie sat up straight at this news, as Beth, Kestrel, Merida and I went over to Sian to comfort her.

"What happened, Sian?" I asked her.

"Yes, tell us, sister, for you and Ma have never fallen out before," said Kestrel in her soft voice, which seemed to cool Sian, for after a while, she spoke.

"Well, it was just after you and Georgia had left the chamber, Kiara. Clutch and Baxter left not long after. Ma, Darbus, Triphorm, Grumpy and myself were the only ones left in there. Darbus tried to persuade Ma to get you out of the Tournament, and I agreed with her, but Ma said no, for the rules of the Tournament are clear. Then Triphorm stepped forward and said that we should let events unfold for the time being. Darbus and I both tried to talk her out of it, saying that you would be set up as bait, when you're ... well ... you know ..." Sian finished lamely. I understood that she was going to say "just a girl", but chose not to so as not to upset me. I smiled my thanks to her and nodded to let her know that she can continue.

"Anyway, Ma agreed with Triphorm, then said that Grumpy and I should watch over you. But I had had enough by this point. So I told Ma that I wanted nothing to do with it; for I remembered what Ma had told me about the last time the Triwizard Tournament was held, and told Ma how a good person died and a terrible person was near enough reborn, and I also mentioned how Albus Dumbledore regretted making Harry Potter go through with it to his dying day."

"Then what happened, Sian?" asked Merida gently.

"Well, Ma said that what happened last time wouldn't occur again, and I said to her how would she know that. I then gave her an ultimatum: either she took Kiara out of the Tournament and she would have me by her side, but if she let you go along with it, she would lose me for the remainder of the school year. I should have known that Ma would have gone along with her own initiative, but I wanted to give her a chance to see if she would change her mind. Of course she didn't, and so I told her to have it her way, and that I would ignore her for the rest of the school year; and when she tried to argue against me, I told her, "No, Headmistress!"."

Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel, Merida and I all gasped.

"You didn't?" said Beth, shocked.

Sian simply sighed and said, "I did, and I don't regret it, despite how much it pains me inside. Anyhoo, I then told Ma before I left that I hope that she was happy with herself with the choice that she made, before I told her that she would regret her actions and to mark my words. And then I left," she finished, somewhat lamely.

After a few moments of shocked silence had passed between us, I said, "You didn't have to sacrifice your relationship with your mother for my benefit, S.D. ."

Sian looked at me and said, "I know I didn't, but I felt I had a right to."

I was surprised at this, for I did not expect this type of act to come from Sian, but I smiled at her nonetheless. She smiled back at me, before she turned to Chrissie and said, with a frown, "And you, Chrissie. You should know by now that Kiara would never do something as dangerous as this without a reason behind her actions."

"Yeah, OK," said Chrissie, in exactly the same sceptical tone as Georgia, laying back down on her bed. "Only Kiara did say this morning that she'd have done it last night, and no one would've seen her ... I'm not stupid, you know."

"You're doing a really good impression of it," I snapped. Sian, Beth, Kestrel and Merida seemed shocked by this, for they all knew how well Chrissie and I got on.

"Yeah?" Chrissie then said, and there was no trace of a grin, forced or otherwise, on her face now. "You want to get to bed, Kiara, for I expect you'll need to be up early tomorrow for a photocall or something."

She then wrenched the hangings shut around her four-poster, leaving myself, Sian, Beth, Kestrel and Merida standing by the door, shocked, staring at the dark red curtains, that hid one of the few people I had been sure would have believed me.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

 **The Weighing of the Wands: Part 1**

 **KIARA**

When I woke on Thursday morning, it took me a moment to remember why I felt so miserable and worried. Then the memory of the previous night rolled over me. I sat up and ripped back the curtains of my own four-poster, intending to talk to Chrissie, to force Chrissie to believe me - only to find that Chrissie's bed, as well as all the others, was empty. She and her sisters had obviously gone down to breakfast.

I dressed and descended down the girls' dormitory staircase, and then down the spiral staircase into the common room. The moment I appeared, the people who had already had breakfast and were getting their things for class broke into applause. The prospect of going down into the Great Hall and facing the rest of the school was not inviting, but I was hungry and I knew that it had to be done. So I walked over to the portrait hole, pulled it open, climbed out of it and went down to breakfast.

Well, you can imagine the response of the students when I got into the Hall: the loud chattering was suddenly hushed when everyone saw me, and was replaced by hissing whispers and sharp, sly glances at me as I walked over to the Lion-Heart table. I was also met by sneers from the Snake-Eyes table and roars and more rounds of applause from my fellow Lion-Hearts, but I ignored it all and took a seat next to Sian, as Lion-Hearts around me gave me words of praise and clapped me on the shoulder as they walked by. I ignored all this too, for I did not deserve it, as I took to looking up and down the table for Chrissie, who I found sitting next to Zara, staring stonily at her porridge as she played with it.

The next two days for me were torture: putting up with cheers from my fellow Lion-Hearts, sly looks from the Badger-Stripes and Raven-Wings, and to top it off, jeers and sneers from the Snake-Eyes; so let's just say that I was glad when Saturday came along. I got a shock that Saturday morning, though, when I pulled open the portrait hole, and found Chris and Sian waiting for me.

"Hello," Sian said, holding up a stack of toast, which she was carrying in a napkin. "We brought you this ... want to go for a walk?"

"Good idea," I said gratefully, for after two days of madness, it was good to be alone with two of my three best friends.

We went downstairs, crossed the Entrance Hall quickly without looking in at the Great Hall, and were soon striding across the lawn towards the river, where the Uagadou submarine was moored, reflected blackly in the water. It was a chilly morning, as I recall, and we kept moving, munching our toast, as Sian told me that she had told Chris exactly what had happened after I had left the Lion-Heart table the night my name was pulled out of the Goblet of Fire, and also what had occurred between Sian and her mother.

"Well, of course you hadn't entered yourself," said Chris, when Sian had finished telling him everything. "Even without Sian telling me everything now, the look on your face is evidence enough that you hadn't when Ma read out your name; I mean, the thought alone is ridiculous, and Chrissie's a fool for believing so, as is anyone else who does! But the question is, who _did_ put it in? Because Grumpy's right, Kiara ... I don't think any student could have done it ... they'd never be able to fool the Goblet, or get over Ma's Age Line. Oh, and by the way, Sian," he said, turning to her, "nice one for standing up to Ma. It's good to know that you're not such a mother's girl, after all."

Sian then gave him a rather dangerous look, a look that we had only seen Sian give a few times before, as she said in a low, dark voice, "Watch it, Rickers!" Chris and I backed off slightly from her, both of us scared that if we got too close that she would do something painful to one of us.

"So ..." I said after a few moments, trying to diffuse the tension, "have either of you spoken to Chrissie at all?"

That did it; Sian and Chris looked nervously at each other.

"Well, does she still think I entered myself?"

"Well ... no, I don't think so ... not _really_ ," said Chris awkwardly.

"What's that suppose to mean, _not really_?"

"Oh, Kiara, isn't it obvious?" Sian said despairingly. "She's jealous!"

"Jealous!" I said incredulously. "Jealous of what? She wants to make a fool of herself in front of the whole school, does she?"

"Look," said Sian patiently, "it's always you who gets all the attention, you know it is. I know it's not your fault," she added quickly, seeing me open my mouth furiously, "I - what am I thinking about, "I"? - _we_ ," she continued, indicating herself and Chris, "know you don't ask for it ... but - well - you know, Chrissie's got myself who always outshines her (not bragging, just a well-known fact that I'm well aware of), as well as the rest of our brothers and sisters to compete against at home, and you're her best friend, and you're really famous - she's always shunted to one side whenever people see you, and she puts up with it, and she never mentions is, but I suppose this is just one time too many ..."

"Great," I said bitterly. "Really great. Tell her from me I'll swap any time she wants. Tell her from me she's welcome to it ... people gawping at my forehead everywhere I go ..."

"We're not telling her anything," Chris said shortly. "Tell her yourself, if you really want to sort this out."

"I'm not running around after her trying to make her grow up!" I said, so loudly that several owls in a nearby tree took flight in alarm.

"And you don't think I haven't tried to make her grow up?" Sian asked me pointedly, but I ignored her.

"Maybe she'll believe I'm not enjoying myself once I've got my neck broken or - "

"That's not funny," Chris said quietly. "That's not funny at all." He and Sian both looked extremely anxious. "Kiara, Sian and I have been talking - you know what we've got to do, don't you? Straight away, the moment we get back to the castle?"

"Yeah, give Chrissie a good kick up the - "

" _Write to your parents and Sarabi._ You've got to tell them what happened. They've asked you to keep them posted on everything that's going on at Dragon Mort ... besides, Sian and I both think that your parents expected something like this to happen. Sian's bought out some parchment, ink and a quill out with her - "

"Come off it," I said, looking around to check that we couldn't be overheard, but the grounds were quite deserted. "They came back to the country just because my scar twinged. They'll probably come bursting right into the castle if I tell them someone's entered me for the Triwizard Tournament - "

 _"They'd want you to tell them,"_ said Sian sternly. "Your parents and Sarabi would _want you to tell them_. They're going to find out anyway - "

"How?"

"Kiara, this isn't going to be kept quiet," said Sian, very seriously. "This Tournament's famous. You're famous. I'll be really surprised if there isn't anything in the _Daily Squabbler_ about you competing ... you're already in half the books about She-You-Know ... and your parents and Sarabi would rather hear it from you, I know they would."

"OK, OK, I'll write to them," I said, throwing my last piece of toast into the river. The three of us stood and watched it floating there for a moment, before a large tentacle rose out of the water and scooped it beneath the surface. Then we returned to the castle.

"Whose owl am I going to use?" I said, as we climbed the stairs. "My parents told me not to use Harold again."

"Ask Chrissie if you can borrow - "

"I'm not asking Chrissie for anything," I said flatly.

"Well, why don't you borrow Cattonia for your parents, and then use Harold for Sarabi," Chris said.

We went up to the Owlery. Sian gave me two pieces of parchment, a quill and a bottle of ink, then she and Chris strolled aound the long lines of perches, looking at all the different owls, whilst I sat down against a wall and wrote the letter to my parents.

 _Dear Daddy and Mum,_

 _You told me to keep you posted on what's happening at Dragon Mort, so here goes - I don't know if you've heard, but the Triwizard Tournament's happening this year and on Wednesday night I got picked as the fourth Champion. I don't know who put my name in the Goblet of Fire, because I didn't. The other Dragon Mort Champion is Georgia Diggs, from Badger Stripes._

I paused at this point, thinking. I had a huge urge to say something about the large weight of anxiety that seemed to have settled inside my chest since that night, but I couldn't express this into words; so I simply dipped my quill back into the ink bottle and wrote:

 _Hope that you and Noelani are Ok._

 _Love you lots,_

 _Kiara_

I rewrote this letter on the other piece of parchment, changing the parents part and leaving the Noelani part out and sending my love to Grandmother Sarafina as always (for this was my letter to Grandmother Sarabi, after all), before I got to my feet, brushed the straw off my robes and said, "Finished" to Chris and Sian. At this, Harold came fluttering down onto my shoulder and held out his leg.

"I'll use you in a minute," I told him gently. "I've got to pick another owl to send to my parents first, and then I'll use you. Just hang on ..."

Harold jumped to one of the perches, watching me as I attached the letter to Cattonia's leg, as he squirmed eagerly in Chris' hands. When I had finished, and Chris had let go of the little guy, I then turned to Harold, who flew to my shoulder eagerly and held out his leg expectantly and patiently, as I tied the letter I had written to Grandmother Sarabi tightly to his leg. I then watched him go out the window and disappear beyond the horizon, hoping against hope that they would get back to me soon.

 **SIAN**

It was a cold and hazy Sunday morning, and Sian was sat outside in a quiet, secluded part of the grounds, just by the river, which was an unkempt, overgrown mass of a garden: the grass reached just above her ankles, ivy covered a lot of the surface of the stone bench where she sat, and the vines barely missed the grass. Sian liked it this way. Sure it was untidy and not what she was used to, but she liked it better this way, especially when shafts of sunlight playfully broke through the leaves. Instead of the usual textbook and quills with her as you would expect, instead she had a sketchbook and pencils, and seemed to be drawing something. Every so often, she would stop, look at her work, and then she would either rub something out, or would just keep going. She was so focused on her work, that often a few strands of hair would fall across her face, but she would brush these off impatiently and carry on.

It had been a few tough days for Sian after the argument with her mother. Sian knew that she was right, but that didn't stop the pain. Never in her life had she imagined that she would fall out with her mother, but so she had. She would get through it, though. She always was a girl who was strong enough to pull through a painful burden. Her mother was alive, after all, and that gave her the strength to carry on.

As she was sketching, she didn't realise that someone was watching her. It was only when a shadow had fallen across her sketchbook that she turned around. She noticed the black cloths covering his face this time, but it was his light-amber eyes that made her know who he was, as they gazed intently at Sian and her work, that she sighed a sigh of relief. It was Kopa.

It was only after she took a deep breath that she realised he was looking at her work. She then quickly covered her picture with her hand, not because she didn't want Kopa to see it, but because she didn't want Kopa to see the work until it was finished. She saw a look of disappointment cross Koap's eyes when she covered her work. She giggled.

"I'm sorry," Sian said to him, moving across the stone bench she was sat upon so that Kopa had enough room to sit down, "but you're going to have to wait to see the finished piece."

"It's good," said Kopa softly, sitting down next to her.

"Thanks," said Sian, before going back to her work.

They were silent for a few moments; all that could be heard was the scratching of Sian's pencils and the wind whistling through the trees. Then Kopa decided to speak up again.

"So," he said slowly, "what brings you out here on a day like this?"

Sian paused with her work, sighed, and looked at him. "I had to get away from the madness that's going on in the castle."

Kopa looked confused, so Sian explained, "Well, after Kiara's name had been called from the Goblet, and after Kiara's participation in the Tournament had been discussed, my mother, some of my teachers and I were talking about whether we should follow the rules by keeping her in the Tournament, or whether we should break them by taking her out of it. When it had been established that she would be staying in, there was then some talk about wanting to protect her to keep her out of harm's way, when she's going to be in danger anyway. So I told my mother straight that if she didn't take Kiara out, I would ignore her for the remainder of this year (for I have a feeling that this year will not end as well as my last few years at this school have). My mother refused to heed my advice, so I told her that she will regret the decision she made, and then I walked out and now I'm ignoring her."

Kopa's eyes flashed with surprise as Sian finished this. "Wow. You must really value the life of your friend to do something like that, for not many people I know would ignore their parents for the sake of their friends."

"Well, I'm not like every other person," Sian said. "And I really do value my friendship with Kiara, I really do. Don't get me wrong, I love my mother, but she is so wrong about this, and I'm so angry with her for the decision that she has made, for I thought that she cared about Kiara more than this. Kiara has said that Ma has wanted to test Kiara, but she's gone one step too far this time. I mean, people die in this Tournament, for crying out loud! If anything serious ever happened to Kiara, I know that my mother would be furious with herself, and I don't know if I would ever forgive her. Sure it's painful for me to be apart from her, but I know what I'm doing is right, and my mother is wrong, and - oh ..." Sian stopped, for she had been going way too fast with letting "the crazy" out of her head. "I'm sorry ... I really shouldn't be letting "the crazy" out so soon ..."

"It's all right," said Kopa soothingly. Sian looked at him and saw that his eyes sparkled with kindness. "I understand that a lot has happened to you in a short amount of time, and that your head is filled with so much and you want to talk to someone about it, besides your family."

Sian blinked in surprise at this, for the only person who understood her this well was her mother. Kopa seemed to understand what went through Sian's head, for he said, "Hey, I've been there, too. So don't worry, you're not alone. And," he said, his eyes sparkling mischievously, "I take it your not on the dating scene right now?"

Sian laughed in spite of herself, and said, "No, I've never been on a date with anyone before."

"Really?" Kopa seemed surprised at this. "I thought that you would have had a few offers from guys to go out on dates."

Sian sighed and said, "Well, I'm only fourteen, so that's one thing that's put me off dating, and the other is that even though a few guys have looked my way ... I don't see anything in them that makes me think I'll have a good time if the guy happened to ask me out on a date."

Kopa's cloths flaaped as he nodded his head slowly, thinking. "So ... when you want to go on a date with someone, you want it to be with someone who will appreciate you for who you are ... not just your looks?" he said slowly.

Sian smiled, amazed that he understood her so fast. "Yes, I do."

Sian could see a smile in his eyes as he said, "That's a very grown up way of thinking."

"Well, that's me for you," said Sian lightly, shrugging. "I've always been mature for my age." Then curiosity grabbed hold of her, and she couldn't help but ask, "So, have you ever gone a date before, Kopa?"

"No, I haven't, but we just have to keep moving forward and keep our eyes open for someone interesting to catch our eye, don't we?"

"Yes, we must," Sian said, picking up her pencils and returning back to her drawing. As she worked, she thought to herself whether she would tell Kopa that it was _he_ who had caught her eye, but she didn't want to startle him and scare him off, so she kept on working.

Another tranquil silence passed between them. It surprised both of them that even though they hardly knew each other, they were both comfortable in each other's company; but of course they were not going to tell each other that, at least not that soon, anyway.

"It's so beautiful here, in this secluded spot," Kopa said after a while. "How did you come by it?"

Sian smiled, put down her pencils again and said, "It was in my first year, actually. I was a loner in those days, and when I wanted to, I would take a walk in the grounds to study, but only when it was nice enough. When it rained, I would study in the library. Anyway, on one fine, sunny day, about two weeks after I had started at Dragon Mort, I was ambling along, when I found a bush that seemed to be covering something. I moved it aside, and saw this. Most people wouldn't call it beautiful, but for me I find that beauty can often be found in the simplest things, and nature itself can be beautiful, so that's why I kept it like this. No one knows about this place but me; I like that it's my secret hideaway, so to speak." Sian and Kopa shared a laugh. "But then I started hanging out with Chris and Chrissie - my adopted brother and twin sister, who is nothing like me in both appearance and mind (my sister, obviously) - and Kiara, and so I stopped coming here, until last year when I fell out with Kiara, Chris and Chrissie, but that's another story. I come out here to do homework, draw, or just spend some time with my thoughts, and - hang on," she said, turning to him suspiciously, "what are you doing here? And how did you find my spot?"

Kopa looked taken aback at Sian's sudden change of tone, and he said, "Well, I wanted to take a look around the grounds, for they are indeed beautiful. I was lost in thought, thinking about nothing in particular, when I heard some odd scratching coming from close by. I was curious to find out what it was, and I found that it was you, sketching. For a few minutes, I stood there watching you, for you seemed so focused in what you were doing, as you flicked those annoying strands of hair out of your face, and every now and then you would mutter incomprehensible words under your breath before you carried on. I didn't wish to disturb you, but my feet seemed to drag me forward, and here we are now. I'm sorry I disturbed you - "

"Don't be," said Sian quickly. "I'm glad you did." Kopa smiled softly in relief and gratitude at Sian's words (she could see it in his eyes, and Sian smiled back at him. So, Kopa had been watching her work. She didn't know why, but rather than being annoyed with him, Sian seemed happy at this, and found the thought of him admiring her (for what other word could be used here?) charming.

Kopa then said, "So, why don't we call this place our spot?"

Sian looked at him sharply. "Dude, we haven't known each other that long. Besides, you'll be leaving in about eight months - "

"I know. But we'll call it our spot, anyway, seeing as I know about it now. And when the weather's nice, we can always come here together, and therefore when I'm gone, you'll have some good memories to associate with it."

Sian thought about this for a few moments, and seemed quite pleased with this suggestion. "I'll do that," she said. "From now on, this will be our spot." And as she said this, Sian smiled a smile of pure joy, even as her heard skipped a beat.

 **KIARA**

I thought that matters would improve once everyone got used to the idea of me being made Champion, but I was mistaken when Monday came around. From what you've already read, I assume you'll know that the school all thought that I'd entered myself for the Tournament, just like my fellow Lion-Hearts had. Unlike my fellow Lion-Hearts, however, they did not seem impressed.

The Badger-Stripes, who were usually on excellent terms with we Lion-Hearts, had turned remarkably cold towards the whole lot of us. One Herbology lesson was enough to demonstrate this. It was plain that the Badger-Stripes felt that I had stolen their Champion's glory; a feeling exacerbated, perhaps, by the fact that Badger-Stripes house very rarely got any glory, and that Georgia was one of the few who had ever given them any, having beaten Lion-Heart once at Quidditch. Emily Mac and Justine Cole, with whom I had normally gotten on very well, did not talk to me even though we were re-potting Bouncing Bulbs at the same tray - though they did laugh rather unpleasantly when one of the Bouncing Bulbs wriggled free from my grip and smacked me hard in the face. Chrissie wasn't talking to me, either. Chris and Sian sat between us, both making very forced conversation, but though myself and Chrissie answered them normally, we avoided making eye contact with each other. I thought that even Spud seemed distant with me - but then, he was head of Badger Stripes house, so I couldn't blame him.

I would have looked forward to seeing Mina under normal circumstances, but Care of Magical Creatures meant seeing the Sanke-Eyes bunch, too - and this time, they didn't hold back on jests, as you're about to see.

Predictably, Malty arrived at Mina's cabin with her familiar sneer firmly in place.

"Ah, look girls, it's the Champion," she said to Crate, Gabber and Rae-Bradley, the moment she got within earshot of me. "Got your autograph books? Better get a signature now, because I doubt she's not going to be around much longer ... half the Triwizard Champions have died ... how long d'you reckon you're going to last, Pride-Lander? Ten minutes into the first task's my bet."

Crate and Gabber guffawed, but to my surprise, Rae-Bradley didn't laugh or giggle. She didn't even smile. Instead she frowned at her cousin's humour, and when she saw me looking at her, she looked at me with a look that I had never seen before. I didn't know what it was meant to be: pity mixed with apology, perhaps? But I didn't get much time to ponder on this, for Malty had just seen Mina emerge from the back of her cabin, holding a teetering tower of crates, each containing a very large Shudder-Ended Crab. To our horror, Mina proceeded to explain that the reason why the Crabs had been killing each other was an excess of pent-up energy, and that the solution would be for each of us to fix a leash on a Crab and take it for a short walk. The only good thing about this plan was that it distracted Malty completely.

"Take this thing for a walk?" she repeated in disgust, staring into one of the boxes. "And where exactly are we supposed to fix the leash? Around the horns, the claws or the big, pounding, fire shooting pincer?"

"Roun' the middle," said Mina, demonstrating. "Er - yeh might want ter put on yer dragon-hide gloves, jus' as an extra precaution, like, an' mind the claws as yeh put 'em on. Kiara - you come here an' help me with this big one ..."

Mina's real intention, however, was to talk to me away from the rest of the class.

She waited until everyone else had set off with their Crabs, then turned to me and said, very seriously, "So - yer competin', Kiara. In the Tournament. School Champion."

"One of the Champions," I corrected her.

Mina's beetle-brown eyes looked very anxious. "No idea who put yeh in fer it, Kiara?"

"You believe I didn't do it, then?" I said, concealing with difficulty the rush of gratitude I felt at Mina's words.

"'Course I do," Mina grunted. "Yeh say it wasn' you, an' I believe yeh - an' Crighton believes yeh, an' all."

"She's right, Kiara," said a voice behind us. Mina and I looked around and saw Sian standing there, an apologetic look on her face. "Sorry for eavesdropping, but - "

"Ah, tha's all righ', Sian," said Mina, wiping away Sian's apology with one swipe of her large hands. Then Mina frowned a little at Sian, and said, "I heard abou' the argument yeh had with yer mother, Sian. Tha's not like you."

"I suppose she's told you, then?" Sian sighed. Mina nodded, and Sian said, "Look, I know that you're not impressed with what I said, but I was only standing up for Kiara, for we all know the history this Tournament has. I thought that Ma would break the rules for once - but she didn't."

We were silent for a moment. Mina and I both looked at Sian with pity at the sadness in her eyes. I then decided to ask her, "So Sian, your mother _really_ does believe me?"

That seemed to snap Sian out of her reverie, for she said, "Well, of course she does, Kiara. Darbus believes you, too. Triphorm, I think, _does_ believe you, but you can never be too sure with her, can you?"

I thought that this was true, considering how Triphorm has treated me, but then I said bitterly, "I just wish I knew who _did_ do it."

The three of us looked out over the lawn; the rest of the class was widely scattered now, and all in great difficulty. The Crabs were now over three feet long, and were extremely powerful. No long shell-less and colourless, they had developed a kind of thick, greyish shining armour. They looked like a cross between giant scorpions and elongated crabs - but still without recognisable heads or eyes. They had became immensely strong, and very hard to control.

"Looks like they're havin' fun, don' they?" Mina said happily. Sian and I shared a look, in which we certainly weren't; every now and then, with an alarming bang, one of the Crabs' ends would either bang hard on the ground or shoot fire, causing the ground to shake and the student holding it to jump back in alarm, or it would shoot forwards several yards, and more than one person would be dragged along on their stomach, trying desperately to get back on their feet.

"Ah, I don' know, Kiara," Mina sighed suddenly, looking back down at me with a worried expression on her face. "School Champion ... everythin' seems ter happen ter you, doesn' it?"

I didn't answer. Yes, everything did seem to happen to me ... that was more or less what Chris and Sian had said as we walked around the river, and that was the reason, according to them, that Chrissie did not speak to me ... well, not for a while, anyway.

0000

The next few days that passed were some of the very worst that I had ever experienced during my time at Dragon Mort. The closest I had ever come to feeling like that had been during those months in my second year, when a large part of the school had suspected me of attacking my fellow students. But Chrissie had been on my side then. I thought I could have coped with the rest of the school's behaviour if I could just have had Chrissie back as a friend, but I didn't go and try to persuade Chrissie to talk to me if Chrissie didn't want to. Nevertheless, it was a lonely time for me, with dislike pouring in on me from all sides.

I could understand the Badger-Stripes' attitudes, even if I didn't like it; they had their own Champion to support, after all. I expected nothing less than vicious insults from Snake-Eyes - I was highly unpopular there, always had been and always will be (apparently), as I had helped Lion-Heart beat them so often, both at Quidditch and in the Inter-House Championship. But I had hoped the Raven-Wings lot might have found it in their hearts to support me as much as Georgia. I was wrong, however, for most Raven-Wings were under the impression that I had been desperate to earn myself a bit more fame by tricking the Goblet into accepting my name.

Then there was the fact that Georgia looked the part of a champion so much more than I did. Exceptionally beautiful, with her straight nose, dark hair and grey eyes. It was hard to see who was receiving more admiration in those days, Georgia or Kovu Outsider. I actually saw some sixth-year boys begging Georgia to sign their schoolbags one lunchtime. Meanwhile, there was no reply from my parents, but I did get a letter from Grandmother Sarabi a few days later. This is what it said:

 _My dearest Kiara,_

 _The shock you've given me from reading your latest letter, I almost couldn't believe it! Oh, my darling, I thought, as you did, that you were going to have a quiet year at Dragon Mort this year. I never believed this would happen to you, Kiara, I really didn't. As you know, normally I would tell you to keep your head down and not to get into any trouble or danger, but that's out of the question, now. What I will say to you, however, is this: keep your eyes open always, and if you see or hear anything weird, go straight to Crighton, do you hear me?_

 _Sarafina sends her love. She's as scared for you as I am. You are in our prayers, my darling, and we both hope that you'll do well and survive. And we are rooting for you._

 _I've got to go now, my darling. Keep me posted on what's happening for the rest of your year. Good luck._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Grandmother Sarabi_

These words gave me comfort, and I couldn't help but feel grateful to her for being there for me. Anyway, Professor Crystals was predicting my death with even more certainty than usual, and I did so badly at Summoning Charms in Professor Winds' class that I was given extra homework - the only person to get any, apart from Nikita.

"It's really not that difficult, Kiara," Sian tried to reassure me, as she, Chris and I left Winds' class - Chris and Sian had both been making objects zoom across the room to them all lesson, as though they were both a sort of weird magnet for board dusters, wastepaper baskets and Lunascopes.

"Sian's right, Kiara," Chris said gently. "You just weren't concentrating properly - "

"Wonder why that was?" I said darkly, as Georgia Diggs walked past, surrounded by a large group of boys, all of whom looked at me as though I was a particularly large Shudder-Ended Crab. "Still - never mind, eh? Double Potions to look forward to this afternoon ..."

Double Potions was always a horrible experience, but in those days it was nothing short of torture. Being shut in a dungeon for an hour and a half with Triphorm and the Snake-Eyes, all of whom seemed determined to punish me as much as possible for daring to become school champion, was about the most unpleasant thing I could imagine. I had already struggled through one Friday's worth, with Chris on one side of me and Sian on the other, both intoning "Ignore them, ignore them, ignore them" under their breaths, and I couldn't see why that should have been any better.

When Chris, Sian and I arrived outside Triphorm's dungeon after lunch, we found the Snake-Eyes bunch waiting outside, each and every one of them wearing a large badge on the front of his or her robes - apart from Rae-Bradley, funnily enough. I thought this was rather odd, for she always followed whatever Malty did, but then I thought back to the looks she had been giving me and not joining in her cousin's laughter; and that's when I asked myself: _could Rae-Bradley be changing?_ Before I had any time to ponder on this thought, however, my eyes were caught by the badges, because for one mild moment I thought they were H.A.M.E. badges - then I saw that they all bore the same message, in luminous red letters that burnt brightly in the dimly lit underground passage:

 _Support GEORGIA DIGGS -_

 _the REAL Dragon Mort Champion_

"Like them, Pride-Lander?" said Malty loudly, as I approached. "And this isn't all they do - look!"

She pressed her badge into her chest, and the message upon it vanished, to be replaced by another one, which glowed green:

 _PRIDE-LANDER STINKS_

All the Snake-Eyes howled with laughter, apart from Rae-Bradley, who looked uncomfortable at their laughter, whilst also looking that she wished that she was somewhere else. Then all the Snake-Eyes people wearing the badges pressed them, too, until the message _PRIDE-LANDER STINKS_ was shining brightly all around me. I remember the heat rising in my face and neck at that moment; not out of embarrassment - but out of my rising anger.

"Oh, very _funny_ ," Chris said sarcastically to Parry Parker and his gang of Snake-Eyes boys, who were laughing harder than anyone.

"Really _witty_ ," Sian added, just as sarcastically.

Chrissie was standing against the wall with Dena, Zara and Sarah Rimmer. She wasn't laughing, but she wasn't sticking up for me either.

"Want one, Rickers? Dawson?" said Malty, holding two badges out for them. "I've got loads. But don't touch my hand, Dawson, now, for I've just washed it, you see, and I don't want a Sackbrain shining it up."

That was the last straw for me, for I felt some of the anger that I had been feeling for days and days finally came bursting through a dam in my chest. I reached for my wand before I had given a thought to what I happened to be doing. People all around us scrambled out of the way, backing down the corridor.

 _"Kiara!"_ Sian said warningly. I ignored her.

"Go on, then, Pride-Lander," Malty said quietly, drawing out her own wand. "Grumpy's not here to look after you now - do it, if you've got the guts - "

For a split second, we looked into each other's eyes, then, at exactly the same moment, both of us acted.

 _"Fernunculus!"_ I yelled.

 _"Densaugeo!"_ screamed Malty.

Jets of light shot from both our wands, hit each other in mid-air, and ricocheted off at angles - I hit Gabber in the face, and Malty's hit Sian. Gabber bellowed and put her hands up to her nose, where great ugly boils were springing up - Sian, whimpering in panic, was clutching her mouth.

"Sian!" Chrissie had hurried forwards to see what was wrong with her.

Chris and I turned at the same time to see Chrissie dragging Sian's hand away from her face. It wasn't a pretty sight. Sian's front teeth were growing at an alarming rate; she was looking more and more like a beaver as her teeth elongated, past her bottom lip, towards her chin - panic-stricken, she felt them and let out a terrified cry.

"And what is all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice. Triphorm had arrived.

The Snake-Eyes clamoured to give their explanations. Triphorm pointed a long yellow finger at Malty and said, "Explain."

"Pride-Lander attacked me, ma'am - "

"We attacked each other at the same time!" I shouted.

" - and she hit Gabber - look - "

Triphorm examined Gabber, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi.

"Hospital wing, Gabber," said Triphorm calmly.

"Malty got Sian!" Chrissie said. _"Look!"_

And she forced Sian to show Triphorm her teeth - she was dong her best to hide them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had now grown past her collar. Parry Parker and many other Snake-Eyes were doubled up with silent giggles, pointing at Sian from behind Triphorm's back.

Triphorm looked coldly at Sian, then said, "I see no difference."

Sian's eyes filled with angry tears as she glared at Triphorm and the Snake-Eyes bunch. She then walked slowly towards Triphorm, pushed her face forward and, instead of growling like she had done the last time, roared a powerful, strong roar that echoed off the walls. But she didn't just glare this time, oh no; for you see, her eyes and hair transformed into fire as she roared, which made everyone jump backwards in shock and fright, and that also made the Snake-Eyes' laughter stop. Triphorm looked nonplussed, but I thought for an instant that I saw a hint of fear behind her eyes. When she stopped her roar, the fire faded too, although her hair smoked slightly. She then glared a little longer at Triphorm, before she made her way through the crowd, who all stood back to let her pass.

When she had gone, Chris, Chrissie and I rounded on Triphorm. It was lucky, perhaps, that the three of us shouted at Triphorm at the same time; lucky our voices echoed as loudly as Sian's roar in the stone corridor, for in the confused din, it was impossible for her to hear exactly what we were calling her. She got the point, though.

"Let's see," she said, in her silkiest voice. "Fifty points from Lion-Heart and a detention each for Dawson, Pride-Lander and Rickers. Now, get inside, or it'll be a week's worth of detentions."

I remember well how my ears rang, for the injustice of it made me want to curse Triphorm into a thousand slimy pieces. I passed Triphorm, walked with Chris and Chrissie to the back of the dungeon and slammed my bag down on to the table. Chris was shaking with anger and Chrissie was glaring, looking straight ahead of her - for a moment, it felt as though everything was back to normal between us, but then Chrissie turned, and sat down with Dena, Zara and Sarah instead, leaving Chris and I alone at our table. On the other side of the dungeon, Malty turned her back on Triphorm, and pressed her badge, smirking. _PRIDE-LANDER STINKS_ flashed once more across the room.

I sat there staring at Triphorm, as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to her ... I wished at that moment that I knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse ... I would have had Triphorm on her back like that spider, jerking and twitching.

"Antidotes!" said Triphorm, looking around at all of us, her cold blue-grey eyes glittering unpleasantly. "You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then we will be selecting someone on whom we will test one ..."

Triphorm's eyes met mine then, and I knew what was coming. Triphorm was going to poison me. At that moment, I imagined picking up my cauldron , sprinting up to the front of the class and bringing it down on Triphorm's greasy head -

And then a knock on the dungeon door burst in on my thoughts. I thought that the universe must have taken some sort of pity on me, at first ...

0000

 **A.N.: Sorry for cutting this chapter short, but I thinks it's best to be split. I know that the wand weighing does not take place in this part, but I couldn't think of another chapter name. More to come and I hope you guys are enjoying it.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

 **The Weighing of the Wands: Part 2**

 **KIARA**

And so, the door opened, and the person who knocked happened to be Colleen McCreevy; she edged into the room, beaming at me, and walked up to Triphorm's desk at the front of the room.

"Yes?" said Triphorm curtly.

"Please, ma'am, I'm supposed to take Kiara Pride-Lander upstairs."

Triphorm stared down her hooked nose at Colleen, whose smile faded from her eager face.

"Pride-Lander has another hour of Potions to complete," said Triphorm coldly. "She will go upstairs when this class is finished."

Colleen went pink.

"Ma'am - ma'am, Miss Baxter wants her," she said nervously. "All the Champions have to go. I think they want to take photographs ..."

I would have given anything I owned to have stopped Colleen saying those last few words. I chanced half a glance at Chrissie, but Chrissie was staring determinedly at the ceiling.

"Very well, very well," Triphorm snapped. "Pride-Lander, leave your things here, I want you back down here later to test your antidote."

"Please, ma'am - she's got to take her things with her," squeaked Colleen. "All the Champions - "

"Very _well_!" said Triphorm. "Pride-Lander - take your bag and get out of my sight!"

I swung my bag over my shoulder, got up and headed for the door. As I walked through the Snake-Eyes desks, _PRIDE-LANDER_ _STINKS_ flashed at me from every direction.

"It's amazing, isn't it, Kiara?" said Colleen, starting to speak the moment I had closed the dungeon door behind me. "Isn't it, though? You being Champion?"

"Yeah, really amazing," I said heavily, as we set off towards the steps into the Entrance Hall. "What do they want the pictures for, Colleen?"

"The _Daily Squabbler_ , I think!"

"Great," I said dully. "Exactly what I need. More publicity."

"Good luck!" said Colleen, when we had reached the right room. I knocked on the door, and entered.

I was in a fairly small classroom; most of the desks had been pushed away to the back of the room, leaving a large space in the middle; three of them, however, had been placed, end to end, in front of the blackboard, and were covered with a long length of velvet. Five chairs had been set behind the velvet-covered desks, and Lynn Baxter was sitting in one of them, talking to a wizard I had never seen before, who was wearing magenta robes.

Kovu Outsider was standing moodily in a corner as usual, and was not talking to anybody. Georgia and Ferdinand were in conversation. Ferdinand looked a good deal happier than I had seen him since he had first arrived at Dragon Mort; he kept throwing back his head so that his long black hair caught the light. A paunchy woman, holding a large black camera which was smoking slightly, was watching Ferdinand out of the corner of her eye.

Baxter suddenly spotted me, got up quickly and bounced forwards. "Ah, here she is! Champion number four! In you come, Kiara, in you come ... nothing to worry about, it's just the Wand Weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment - "

"Wand Weighing?" I repeated nervously.

"We have to check your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're you're most important tools in the tasks ahead," said Baxter. "The expert's upstairs now with Crighton. And then there's going to be a little photo shoot. This is Peter Meter," she added, gesturing towards the wizard in magenta robes, "he's doing a small piece on the Tournament for the _Daily Squabbler_ ..."

"Maybe not _that_ small, Lynn," said Peter Meter, his eyes on me.

His hair was set in elaborately and curiously rigid curls that contrasted oddly with his heavy-jawed face. He wore jewelled spectacles. The thick, knobbly fingers clutching his crocodile-skin satchel ended in short nails that wriggled mischievously.

"I wonder if I could have a little word with Kiara before we start?" he said to Baxter, but still gazing fixedly at me. "The youngest Champion, you know ... to add a bit of colour?"

"Certainly!" cried Baxter. "That is - if Kiara has no objections?"

"Er - " I said.

"Lovely," said Peter Meter, and in a second his thick, taloned fingers had my upper arm in a surprisingly strong grip, and he was steering me out of the room again, and opening a nearby door.

"We don't want to be in there with all that noise," he said. "Let's see ... ah, yes, this is nice and cosy."

It was a broom cupboard. I stared at him.

"Come along, darling - that's right - lovely," said Peter Meter again, perching himself precariously upon an upturned bucket, pushing me down onto a cardboard box and closing the door, throwing us into darkness. "Let's see now ..."

He opened up his crocodile-skin satchel and pulled out a handful of candles, which he lit with a wave of his wand and magicked into mid-air, so that we could see what we were doing.

"You won't mind, Kiara, if I use a Quick-Quotes Quill? It leaves me free to talk to you normally ..."

"A what?" I said.

Peter Meter's smile widened. I counted three gold teeth. He reached again into his crocodile satchel, and drew out a long, acid-green quill and a roll of parchment, which he stretched out between us on a crate of Mrs Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess-Remover. He put the tip of the green quill into his mouth, sucked it for a moment with apparent relish, then placed it upright on the parchment, where it stood balanced on its point, quivering slightly.

"Testing ... my name is Peter Meter, _Daily Squabbler_ reporter."

I looked down quickly at the quill. The moment Peter Meter had spoken, the green quill had started to scribble, skidding across the parchment:

 _Attractive, blond Peter Meter, forty-three, whose savage quill has punctured many inflated reputations -_

"Lovely," said Peter Meter, yet again, and he ripped the top of the parchment off, crumpled it up and stuffed it into his satchel. He then leant towards me and said, "So, Kiara ... what made you decide to enter the Triwizard Tournament?"

"Er - " I said again, but I was distracted by the quill. Even though I wasn't speaking, it was dashing across the parchment, and in its wake I made out a fresh sentence:

 _An ugly scar, souvenir of a tragic past, disfigures the otherwise pretty face of Kiara Pride-Lander, whose eyes -_

"Ignore the quill, Kiara," said Peter Meter firmly. I reluctantly raised my eyes to his instead. "Now - why did you decide to enter the Tournament, Kiara?"

"I didn't," I said. "I don't know how my name got into the Goblet of Fire. I didn't put it in there."

Peter Meter raised one thin eyebrow. "Come now, Kiara, there's no need to be scared of getting into trouble. We all know you shouldn't really have entered at all. But don't worry about that. Our readers love a rebel."

"But I didn't enter," I repeated. "I don't know who - "

"How do you feel about the tasks ahead?" said Peter Meter. "Excited? Nervous? Scared?"

"I hadn't really thought ... yeah, nervous and scared, I suppose. My insides squirmed uncomfortably when I spoke to him.

"Champions have died in the past, haven't they?" said Peter Meter briskly. "Have you thought about that at all?"

"Well ... they say it's going to be a lot safer this year," I said.

The quill whizzed across the parchment between us, back and forth as though it was skating.

"Of course, you've looked death in the face before, haven't you?" said Peter Meter, watching me closely. "How would you say that's affected you?"

"Er - " I said, yet again.

"Do you think that the trauma in your past might have made you keen to prove yourself? To live up to your name? Do you think that perhaps you were tempted to enter the Triwizard Tournament because - "

 _"I didn't enter,"_ I said. I was starting to feel irritated with him by this point.

"Can you remember your parents at all?" said Peter Meter, talking over me.

"No," I said. I wanted to tell him that I'd spoken to my parents the previous year, but then I remembered that if I did, I would have to reveal about how myself and Sian had helped them escape, which would get us all in trouble. So I kept quiet.

"How do you think they'll feel when they find out that you're competing in the Triwizard Tournament? Proud? Worried? Angry?"

"Well ... they'll be worried about me, obviously," I said, feeling really annoyed by this time. After all, which parents would not be worried for their child, being unwillingly forced into something as dangerous as the Triwizard Tournament? I felt Peter Meter watching me very intently. Frowning, I avoided his gaze and looked down at the words the quill had just written.

 _Tears fill those startlingly dark amber eyes as our conversation turns to the parents she can barely remember._

"I have not got tears in my eyes!" I said loudly.

Before Peter could say another word, the door of the broom cupboard was pulled open. I looked around, blinking in the bright light. Susan Crighton stood there, looking down at the two of us squashed into the broom cupboard.

"Crighton!" cried Peter Meter, with every appearance of delight - but I noticed that his quill and the parchment had suddenly vanished from the box of Magical Mess-Remover, and Peter's clawed fingers were hastily snapping his crocodile-skin satchel shut. "How are you?" he said, standing up and holding out one of his large, man hands to Crighton. "I hope you saw my piece over the summer about the International Confederation of Wizards conference?"

"Enchantingly nasty," said Crighton, her eyes twinkling. "I particularly enjoyed your description of me as an obsolete dingbat."

As I looked at Crighton, I thought that there was something off about her. The twinkle in her eyes wasn't as bright as it ordinarily was, her eyes were red and her hair was tied back. Her smile looked very stretched, as though someone was pulling her lips upwards, and she looked older than I had ever seen her (up until that point, anyway). I wondered what could be causing this, and then it hit me: Sian and her mother had fallen out because I was in this Tournament, and Crighton was missing Sian because Sian told her mother that she would ignore her for the rest of this year because Crighton kept me in it. Fortunately enough, Peter Meter didn't seem to notice anything different about her, and carried on talking.

Peter Meter didn't look remotely abashed at Crighton's words. "I was just making the point that some of your ideas are a little old-fashioned, Crighton, and that many wizards in the street - "

"I will be delighted to hear the reason behind the rudeness, Peter," said Crighton, with a courteous curtsey and a smile, "but I'm afraid we will have to discuss the matter later. The Weighing of the Wands is about to start, and it cannot take place if one of our Champions is hidden in a broom cupboard."

I was grateful to get away from Peter Meter, so I hurried back into the room. The other Champions were now sitting in chairs near the door, when I sat down quickly next to Georgia, looking up at the velvet-covered table, where four of the five judges were sitting - Professor Kula, Monsieur Legrand, Mrs Clutch and Miss Baxter. Peter Meter settled himself down in a corner; I saw him slip the parchment out of his satchel again, spread it on his knee, suck the end of his Quick-Quotes Quill, and place it once more on the parchment.

"May I introduce Madam Wandwick?" said Crighton, taking her place at the judges' table and talking to we Champions. "She will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the Tournament."

I looked around, and with a jolt of surprise I saw an old witch with large, pale eyes standing quietly by the window. I had met Madam Wandwick once before - she was the wand-maker from whom I had bought my own wand over three years ago in Brickabon Alley.

"Monsieur Desjardins, could we have you forward first, please?" said Madam Wandwick, stepping into the empty space in the middle of the room.

Ferdinand Desjardins swept over to Madam Wandwick, and handed her his wand.

"Hmmm ..." she said.

She twirled the wand between her long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of blue and silver sparks. Then she held it close to her eyes and examined it carefully.

"Yes," she said quietly, "ten and a half inches ... inflexible ... rosewood ... and containing ... dear me ..."

"An 'air from ze 'ead of a Coltee," said Ferdinand. "One of my grandfazzer's."

So now you know that Ferinand is part Coltee. I remembered making a mental note to tell Chrissie ... but then I remembered that Chrissie wasn't talking to me at that point in my life. Just so you know, I told Chrissie about it years later, and needless to say Sian, Chrissie and I have teased Chris about this ever since - but we're getting off topic here.

"Yes," said Madam Wandwick, "yes, I've never used Coltee hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands ... however, to each their own, and if this suits you ..."

Madam Wandwick ran her fingers along the wand, apparently checking for scratches or bumps, then she muttered, "Orchideous!" and a bunch of flowers burst from the wand tip.

"Very well, very well, it's in fine working order," said Madam Wandwick, scooping up the flowers and handing them to Ferdinand with his wand. "Miss Diggs, you next."

Ferdinand glided back to his seat, smiling at Georgia as she passed him.

"Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn't it?" said Madam Wandwick with much more enthusiasm, as Georgia handed over her wand. "Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn ... must have been seventeen hands; nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail. Twelve and a quarter inches ... ash .. pleasantly springy. It's in fine condition ... you treat it regularly?"

"Polished it last night," said Georgia, grinning.

I looked down at my own wand, and saw finger prints all over it; so I gathered a fistful of my robe from my knee and tried to rub it clean surreptitiously. I only stopped when several gold sparks shot out of the end of it, and Ferdinand Desjardins gave me a very patronising look.

Madam Wandwick sent a stream of silver smoke rings across the room from the tip of Georgia's wand, pronounced herself satisfied, and then said, "Mr Outsider, if you please."

Kovu Outsider got up and strode, round-shouldered and light-footed, towards Madad Wandwick. He thrust his wand out and stood scowling with the hands in the pockets of his robes.

"Hmm," said Madam Wandwick, "this is an Ibori creation, unless I'm much mistaken? A fine wand-maker, though the styling is never quite what I ... however ..."

She lifted the wand and examined it minutely, turning it over and over before her eyes.

"Yes ... hornbeam and dragon heartstring?" she shot at Outsider, who nodded. "Rather thicker than one usually sees ... quite rigid ... ten and a quarter inches ... _Avis!_ "

The hornbeam wand let off a blast like a gun, and a number of small, twittering birds flew out of the end, and through the open window into the watery sunlight.

"Good," said Madam Wandwick, handing Outsider back his wand. "Which leaves ... Miss Pride-Lander."

I got to my feet, walked past Outsider to Madam Wandwick and handed her my wand.

"Aaaaah, yes," said Madam Wandwick, her pale eyes suddenly gleaming. "Yes, yes, yes. How well I remember."

I remembered, too. I can remember it as though it had happened only yesterday ...

For those of you who don't recall, allow me to refresh your memories. On my eleventh birthday, I had entered Madam Wandwick's shop to buy a wand. Madam Wandwick had taken my measurements and then started handing me wands to try. I had waved what felt like every wand in the shop, until at last I had found the one that suited me - this one, which was made of holly, eleven inches long, and contained a single feather from the tail of a phoenix. Madam Wandwick had been very surprised that I had been compatible with this wand. "Curious," she had said, "... curious", and not until I asked what was curious had Madam Wandwick explained that the phoenix feather in my wand had come from the same which had supplied the core of Lady Zira's.

Up until now, I have never shared this piece of information with anybody. I am very fond of my wand, and as far as I am concerned it's relation to Zira's wand was something it couldn't help - just like I can't help being related to Aunt Mavuto. I really hoped that Madam Wandwick wasn't about to tell the whole room about it. I had a funny feeling that Peter Meter's Quick-Quotes Quill might just explode with excitement if she did.

Madam Wandwick spent much longer examining my wand than anyone else's. Eventually though, she made a fountain of water shoot out of it, and handed it back to me, announcing that it was still in perfect condition.

"Thank you all," said Crighton, standing up at the judges' table. "You may go back to your lessons now - or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner, as they are about to end - "

I felt that something had finally gone right that day, but as I stood up to leave, the woman with the black camera jumped up and cleared her throat.

"Photos, Crighton, photos!" cried Baxter excitedly. "All the judges and Champions. What do you think, Peter?"

"Er - yes, let's do those first," said Peter Meter, whose eyes were on me again. "And then perhaps some individual shots?"

The photos took an annoyingly long time to do. Monsieur Legrand cast everyone else into shadow wherever he stood, and the photographer couldn't stand far enough back to get him into the frame; eventually he had to sit whilst the rest of us stood around him. Kula kept twirling a piece of her hair to give it an extra curl; I would have thought that Outsider was used to this sort of thing by now, but I was wrong, for he skulked, half-hidden, at the back of our group. The photographer seemed keenest to get Ferdinand at the front, but Peter Meter kept hurrying forwards and dragging me into the greater prominence. Then he insisted on separate shots of myself and my fellow Champions. At long last, we were free to go.

I went down to dinner. Chris wasn't there, nor was Sian - I suspected that she was still in the hospital wing having her teeth fixed. I ate alone at the end of the table, then returned to Lion-Heart Tower, thinking of all the extra Summoning Charms I had to do. When I got to the common room, I found Chris in a chair by the fire waiting for me. He smiled when he saw me.

"Kiara," he said, "how did it go?"

"Not bad," I said, shrugging. "Just a Wand Weighing ceremony, to check our wands were in perfect condition. Then we had some photos taken, and boy, did that take a while to do - the photographer and Peter Meter - yes, I met him - kept arguing about who should be up front, me or Ferdinand Desjardins."

Chris looked at me sympathetically as I slumped into the chair next to him. "So, what's Peter Meter like?"

"Very, _very_ annoying," I said. "I hardly got a single word in because he kept talking over me - and he kept making stuff up. So when the article comes out, don't believe a word of it."

"I won't," Chris said, simply and honestly. I just looked at him.

"I know you, Kiara," he said. "I know you don't want this, and I know that you would have answered as honestly as you could have if he'd let you. Don't let him get to you, that's all you can do." He smiled at me and I smiled back. I then asked him if anything new had happened.

"First of all, this came for you earlier," he said, holding up a letter that he had clutched in his hand that I hadn't seen there before. "He's my owl, so it was pretty easy to take the letter from him before he took off for the Owlery. Oh, and you, Chrissie and I are doing our detentions tomorrow night in Triphorm's dungeon," he added in a not-so-cheerful voice as he handed me the letter. I opened it up, as Chris scooted closer to me to read it with me.

 _Kiara -_

 _We can't say everything we would like to in this letter, for it's too risky in case the owl is intercepted - we need to talk, face to face. Can you ensure that you are alone by the fire in Lion-Heart Tower at one o'clock in the morning on the 24th November?_

 _Your mother and I know better than anyone that you can look after yourself, and while you're around Crighton and Grumpy, we don't think anyone will be able to hurt you. However, saying that someone seems to be having a good try. Entering you in that Tournament would have been risky, especially right under Crighton's nose._

 _Be on the watch, Kiara. Your mother and I still want to hear about anything unusual. Let us know about the 24th November as quickly as you can._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Hugs and kisses,_

 _Daddy and Mum_


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

 **The Horngarian Horntail**

 **KIARA**

The prospect of talking face to face with my parents was all that sustained me over the next fortnight, the only bright spot in a horizon that never looked darker up until that point in my life. The shock of finding myself school Champion had worn off slightly by then, along with the fear of what I was facing. The first task was drawing steadily nearer; I felt as though it were crouching over me like some horrific monster, barring my path. I had never suffered nerves like those I faced before the first task; they were beyond anything I had felt before a Quidditch match, not even the final I faced against Snake-Eyes in my third year, which had decided who would win the Quidditch Cup. I found it extremely hard to think about my future in those days, for at that moment I felt like my whole life had been leading up to, and would finish with, the first task ...

Admittedly, I didn't see how my parents were going to make me feel any better about having to perform an unknown piece of difficult and dangerous magic in front of hundreds of people, but the mere sight of two friendly faces - my parents, no less - was something rather than nothing. I wrote back to my parents, saying that I would be beside the common room fire at the time they suggested, and Chris, Sian and I spent a long time going over plans for forcing any stragglers out of the common room on the night in question. If the worst came to the worst, we were going to drop a bag of Dungbombs, but we hoped that we wouldn't have to resort to that - and a good thing we didn't, either (we'll get to that), for Match would've skinned us alive if he'd found out about it.

If I had thought things were bad for me back then, I was horribly wrong, for they only got worse; for Peter Meter had published his piece about the Triwizard Tournament, and it had turned out to be not so much a report on the Tournament, as a highly coloured "story of my life", so to speak. Much of the front page had been given over to a picture of myself; the names of the Beauxbatons and Uagadou Champions (misspelled) had been squashed into the last line of the article, and Georgia hadn't been mentioned at all.

The article had appeared ten days after the Wand Weighing ceremony had occurred, and, ten days after it was released, I still got a sick, burning feeling of shame in my stomach every time I thought about it (not anymore, for I'm all right now, although I still resent Meter for writing that pack of lies about me). Peter Meter had reported me saying an awful lot of things that I had never said before in my life, let alone in that broom cupboard.

 _"I suppose I get my strength from my parents. They're scared and worried about me, of course, which they have every right to be, but I also think that they'd be proud of me - if they were in their right minds, of course, seeing as they've probably gone mad after being stuck in Azkaban after all this time (for they were mad enough to break out) ... yes, sometimes at night I cry about our situation and the things that they have done, I'm not ashamed to admit it ... even though their souls are maimed, I'd like to think that their spirits_ are whole whenever I think of them, which gives me some comfort, for I've got my grandmothers, so I'm not alone ..."

But Peter Meter had gone even further than transforming my "er"s into long, sickly sentences: he had interviewed other people about me, too.

 _Kiara has at last found love at Dragon Mort. Her close friend, Colleen McCreevy, says that Kiara is rarely seen out of the company of one Christopher Rickers, an extremely handsome, half-blood boy who, like Kiara, is one of the top students in the school._

From the moment the article had appeared, I had to endure people - Snake-Eyes people, mostly - quoting me as I passed them, and making sneering comments. Once or twice, I thought I saw Rae-Bradley look kindly at me, and I thought that she was going to say something, but then Malty would grab her arm and pull her along, and I was left wondering what was going on with her.

"Want a hanky, Pride-Lander, in case you start crying in Transfiguration?"

"Since when have you been one of the top students in the school, Pride-Lander? Or is this a school you and Bore have set up together?"

"Hey - Kiara!"

"Yeah, that's right," I found myself shouting, as I wheeled around in the corridor one day, having had just about enough. "I've just been crying my eyes out over my mad parents, and I'm just off to do a bit more ... "

"No - it was just - you dropped your quill."

It was Khan. I remember how the blood rushed to my cheeks with embarrassment.

"Oh - right - sorry," I muttered, as I took the quill back.

"Er - good luck for Tuesday," he said. "I really hope you do well."

Which, as you might expect, left me feeling extremely stupid.

Chris had come in for his fair share of unpleasantness, too, but he hadn't started yelling at innocent bystanders; in fact, I was full of admiration for the way he had handled the situation (although, I was under the impression that Sian had a lot to do with it), well, apart from one incident, anyway.

 _"Extremely handsome? Him?"_ Parry Parker had shrieked, the first time he had come face to face with Chris after Peter's article had appeared. "What was he judging against - a boy with hedgehog hair?"

"Yeah, well I may have _hedgehog hair_ , but at least I don't have a case of pug face," Chris said shrewdly back. Parry glared at him, and then moved on.

"What happened to ignoring people, Chris?" I asked him, surprised, as Parry and his group of Snake-Eyes boys walked past us.

"I am," he said. "It's just that I thought that Parry needed a taste of his own medicine, that's all. Just ignore it, Kiara. that's all you can do. Sian would tell you the same thing, I'm sure of it."

But I couldn't ignore it. Chrissie wasn't speaking to me at all. I had half hoped that we would have made up during the two hours she, myself and Chris were forced to pickle rat's brains in Triphorm's dungeon, but that had been the day Peter's article had appeared, which seemed to have confirmed Chrissie's idiotic belief that I was really enjoying all the attention.

Sian was furious with the pair of us; she went from one to the other, trying to force us to talk to each other, but I was adamant: I would only talk to Chrissie again once she admitted that I hadn't put my name in the Goblet of Fire (which won't be long, I assure you), and apologised for calling me a liar.

"I didn't start this," I said stubbornly. "It's her problem."

"You miss her!" said Sian impatiently. "And Chris and I both _know_ she misses you - "

 _"Miss her?"_ I said. "I don't _miss her_ ..."

But that was a downright lie. I liked Sian very much, but she just wasn't the same as Chrissie. Without Chrissie in our group, there was much less laughter (though Chris tried - quite successfully - to lighten the mood). Besides, I spent a lot more of my time in the library when I was with them. I was still struggling with Summoning Charms, for I had developed something of a block about them, and Sian insisted that learning the theory would help. We consequently spent a lot more of our time poring over books during our lunchtimes.

Kovu Outsider and his adopted brother, Kopa, were in the library an awful lot during those days, too. Chris and I wondered what they were up to at first, for we thought that they might have been researching for the Triwizard Tournament; but we soon figured out that Outsider was only there to support Kopa, for he went in there to watch Sian. This was proven on this particular day of which I am writing, for no sooner had they entered the library, than Sian, whose head was currently bent over a book, shot her head right up and looked over at him. Her face coloured slightly as she saw his covered face, and before he could look at her, she had turned back to her book.

Outsider and Kopa had chosen a table not that far from ours and sat down. Whenever Sian saw Kopa, Chris and I knew that Sian couldn't concentrate properly, and that day was no different; every five minutes or so, she would raise her head to see if she could catch his eye, and when he didn't, she lowered her head back to her book once more, with a disappointed look on her face.

Ever since we started noticing Sian's fancy for Kopa, Chris and I had been discussing about whether or not Sian was falling for him - whenever Sian wasn't around, that is. Chris and I couldn't make out what Sian found so fascinating about him. OK, it was true at the time that the only weird thing about him was that he kept his face covered apart from his eyes, but apart from that, there was nothing special about him. Clearly, Sian saw something in him that no one else did, but that question was, what was it? Whenever we tried to ask her, she would do one of two things: quickly change the subject, or she would tell us some things, but nothing too clear as to how she felt about Kopa, and we would drop it. This day, however, Chris was feeling brave, and decided to say something.

Taking a deep breath, he said nervously, "Sian?"

"Yeah?" Sian said, looking disappointedly at her book again.

"Er, well ... you know Kopa?"

Sian's face flushed slightly, before she raised her head to Chris and I and said, "What about him?"

I then took a deep breath for courage and said, "Well, Chris and I have been noticing that you can't seem to take your eyes off him every five minutes whenever he's in the same room as you; your eyes sparkle when you look at him, and your face lights up whenever he comes in the room. So, surely you must see something in him, S.D., for not only is this so not like you, but we're wondering what you see in a guy who keeps his face covered up."

I thought I saw a flash of a smile cross Sian's face, but as she raised her head, it was gone, for she flicked her hair back and said, "It's none of your concern," directly to me, before she turned her head back to her book, and was determinedly avoiding Chris' eyes.

Chris quickly picked up on the point, for he said gently, "Look, Sian, if you're worried that I'll take the mick, then don't be. Kiara and I just want to know what you see in him that we don't, for we know you must have talked to him during these past few weeks. So please, Sian? Won't you tell us?"

Chris and I saw Sian raise her face to us again, and watched how her eyes switched from Chris to me and back again. We could almost see the wheels in her head turning, and Chris and I thought that we had got through to her. (How wrong we were.)

Sian suddenly snapped her book shut, which made me and Chris jump. She then thrust her head forwards, so she was an inch or two away from our faces and hissed, "What I think about Kopa is none of your business, so back off!" She then thrust her book into her bag, shoved her bag over her shoulder and left the library in a huff. I saw Kopa watch her leave, as did Chris, and a few seconds later, he left the library to find Sian and comfort her, we assumed ...

 **SIAN**

Sian knew it was ridiculous for her to be angry at Chris and Kiara, but she didn't care. She was a girl who valued her privacy, and she expected others to remember that. She was so lost in angry thoughts that she didn't hear Kopa come up behind her until he shouted her name.

"Sian!"

She turned around and smiled at him, glad to see a friendly face - well, one that wasn't poking into her private business, anyway. "Kopa, hi," she said, blushing. "Sorry, I didn't see you there."

"It's OK. I saw how flustered you looked," said Kopa, his eyes smiling sympathetically. "So, what were they saying that made you so upset?"

Sian was about to answer, but then she held back. She wanted to tell him, she really did, but she didn't want to appear a sobbing, weak wreck all over him. So she quickly recovered herself and said, "Nothing. It's no big deal."

Kopa's eyes looked confused. "Really? 'Cause I saw you looking - "

"Kopa, it's fine, really," said Sian, imploring him to buy her lie. "It's nothing for you to worry about. It's my business, not yours."

She saw a flash of hurt cross Kopa's eyes. "I thought you trusted me?"

Sian didn't expect the pain that cut through her. "I do, Kopa - "

"Clearly not enough," Kopa snarled at her, his eyes cold, hard amber, and he stormed away.

"Kopa! Kopa!" Sian tried to call him back, but he just kept on walking, following Kovu's giggling gang of girls. She saw him turn the corner, and it hit her how hurt she made him. The hurt built inside her, and instead of punching a wall, she let it out in another way, as soon as her head hit her hands.

 **KIARA**

Chris and I were silent for a few moments, before he sighed and said, "She's growing up so fast ..."

"Hmmm," I murmured, nodding my head. "It seems only yesterday that she was a cold-hearted girl, who didn't have a hope in the world of finding someone special who will see her for who she is and treat her the way she deserves. Now look at her ..."

We were silent again, looked at each other slowly and then burst into silent giggles. Ah, how ridiculous we sounded. Honestly, from the way we were talking, you'd have thought we were Sian's parents or something.

Our laughter was cut short, however, by the arrival of Outsider's fan club of giggling girls, who spied on Outsider from behind the bookshelves. So Chris nudged his head towards the door a couple of times. I nodded, and we packed up our things and left. As we came near the doors, Kopa came back, with sad and angry eyes. Chris looked concerned at this, and a bit angry, too. My thoughts, though, were on Chrissie, for as we walked to the common room, I couldn't help but wonder what Chrissie would have said to Sian if she were with us.

0000

It is a strange thing, but when you are dreading something and would give anything to slow down time, it has a disobliging habit of speeding up. The days until the first task seemed to slip by as though someone had fixed the clocks to work at double speed. My feeling of barely controlled panic was with me wherever I went, as ever present as the snide comments about the _Daily Squabbler_ article.

On the Saturday before the first task, all students in the third year and above were permitted to visit the village of Dragsmede. Sian told me that it would do me some good to get away from the castle for a bit. Chris agreed with her, and I didn't need much persuasion (Oh, and Chris and I asked Sian why she wasn't going with Kopa. She looked hurt, but all she would tell us was that she and Kopa had had an argument and didn't say anything else. Chris and I knew better than to push her and we let it drop).

"What about Chrissie, though?" I remember asking them. Of course, it hurt me thinking of the possibility that Chris and Sian would go with Chrissie, but I secretly hoped they wouldn't desert me. "Don't you two want to go with her?"

"Oh ... well ..." Chris paused for a moment, before he continued nervously, "Sian and I thought that we could meet up with her in the Flying Owls ..."

"No," I said flatly. I was still resolute in my thinking that I would not talk to Chrissie, until she was convinced that I hadn't put my name in the Goblet of Fire.

"Oh, come on, Kiara," Sian sighed, rather annoyed. "This is so pathetic - "

"Look, I'll come, but I'm not meeting Chrissie, and I'm wearing my Invisibility Cloak."

Chris and Sian looked at each other for a few moments, before Sian looked at me snapped, "Oh, all right then ... but I hate talking to you in that Cloak, for I never know if I'm talking to you or not."

Chris looked at me, but he didn't have to say anything, for the look he gave me was so full of understanding, that I gave him a gratified look in return.

So I put on my Invisibility Cloak in my dormitory, went back downstairs, and together Chris, Sian and I set off for Dragsmede.

Oh, it was sheer bliss under the Cloak, let me tell you, reader. Instead of being watched and hissed and muttered and insulted at, I was clearly left alone. Tat was the beauty of the Cloak. True, Chris and Sian couldn't see me, but for one day since having my name pulled out of the Goblet of Fire (well, up until after the first task was done, anyway), I was free and happy, for I was away from all the sneers and glares that were thrown my way. Sheer bliss was the end result (I should point out here that even after the first task, the Snake-Eyes still sent me many jeers, sneers and insults, but I think you've already guessed that, haven't you?).

Anyhoo, most of the students walking past us as we entered the village were sporting _Support Georgia Diggs_ badges, but for once no horrible remarks came my way, and not a soul quoted that stupid article, which was yet another good reason for me wearing the Cloak.

After we had emerged from the Sugarshack ten minutes later, the three of us eating large cream-filled chocolates, Chris and Sian were talking in earnest amongst themselves, and every so often, one of them would check to make sure I was still there. I didn't mind them talking to themselves, for not only was I glad of the peace, but it also made everyone around us think that Chris and Sian were not crazy, by thinking that they were talking to themselves and that there was no other person there with them.

Sian had had enough, though, for she hissed at me through near-closed lips, "Come on, Kiara, please take your Cloak off for a bit. No one's going to bother you here."

"Oh, yeah?" I said. "The two of you should turn around and see who's behind us."

Peter Meter and his photographer friend had just emerged from the Flying Owls pub. Talking in low voices, they pushed right by Chris, Sian and I without looking at them (which I found odd, considering how Chris had been mentioned in Peter's article about the Tournament). I backed into the wall of the Sugarshack to stop Peter Meter hitting me with his crocodile-skin satchel.

When they were gone, I said, "He's staying in the village. I bet he's coming to watch the first task."

I remember how I felt my stomach flood with a wave of molten panic as I said it. I have never mentioned that to anyone until now; Chris, Sian and I hadn't discussed what was coming in the first task much; I had a feeling they didn't want to think about it (or, to put it more plainly, they didn't want to think about how they would be seeing me next, and whether they would ever see me alive again, for that matter).

"He's gone," said Chris, looking straight through me towards the end of the high street. "Why don't the three of us go and have a Butterbeer in the Flying Owls. It's a bit cold, after all. And don't worry, Kiara," he said, correctly understanding my silence, "you don't have to talk to Chrissie."

The Flying Owls was packed, mainly with Dragon Mort students enjoying their free afternoon, but also with a variety of magical people I rarely saw anywhere else, before or since. I suppose that as Dragsmede was the only other all-wizarding village in Britain, with Hogsmede being the first, it was a bit of a haven for creatures like hags, who were not as adept as wizards at disguising themselves.

I found it very hard to move through crowds in the Invisibility Cloak, in case I accidentally trod on someone, which always led to awkward questions. I edged slowly towards a spare table in the corner with Chris as Sian bought us drinks. On my way through the pub, I spotted Chrissie, who was sitting with Tanya, Geri and Leah Jones. Resisting the urge to give Chrissie a good, hard poke in the back of the head, Chris and I finally reached the table and sat down at it.

Sian joined us a moment later, gave Chris his Butterbeer and slipped mine under my Cloak.

"Sian?" Chris asked, after a while. "Did you bring my pad and pens?"

"Ah, yes, I did," Sian said, and she reached into her bag and pulled out a sketchpad, some pencils and pens and handed them to Chris.

"I didn't know you could draw," I said to him.

"Well, I'm more into carving models from wood, but this'll do for now," Chris shrugged, as he continued with his latest work, from what I could see.

"Can I have a look?" I asked, genuinely interested, but Chris moved the pad a little further away from my eyes. I looked slightly hurt at him, forgetting that he could not see me.

"Sorry, Kiara," he said, remembering that he could not see me, "but I don't like people to see my work until it's done."

Sian chuckled at this, then said, "Oh, I just remembered what I'd brought with me ..."

And she reached into her bag once more and pulled out a notebook in which she had been keeping a record of H.A.M.E. members. I saw Chris and Chrissie's names as well as my own at the top of the very short list. At the time, it seemed so long ago (rather than weeks) that Chrissie and I had sat making up those predictions with Chris watching us, and Sian had turned up and appointed me secretary, Chrissie treasurer and Chris her advertising helpmate.

"You know, maybe I should try and get some of the villagers involved in H.A.M.E.," Sian said thoughtfully, looking around the pub.

"Yeah, right," I said. I took a swig of Butterbeer under my Cloak. "Sian, when are you going to give up on this H.A.M.E. stuff?"

"When house-elves who are being mistreated are given somewhere better to work, with decent wages and working conditions!" she hissed. "You know, I'm starting to think it's time for a more direct approach. I wonder how you get into the school kitchens?"

"No idea, ask Tanya and Geri," I said.

Sian lapsed into thoughtful silence and Chris carried on drawing, while I drank my Butterbeer, watching the people in the pub. All of them looked cheerful and relaxed. Emily Mack and Henry Abbott were swapping Multi-Flavoured Fruit-Frog cards at a nearby table, both of them sporting _Support GEORGIA DIGGS_ badges on their cloaks. Right over by the door I saw Khan and a large group of his Raven-Wings friends. He wasn't wearing a _GEORGIA_ badge, though ... that cheered me up very slightly ...

I would have given anything to be one of those people at that moment, sitting around, laughing and talking, with nothing to worry about but homework. I imagined how it would have felt to be there if my name hadn't come out of the Goblet of Fire. I wouldn't have been wearing my Invisibility Cloak, for one thing, and Chrissie would have sat with us. The four of us would probably have imagined what deadly, dangerous task the school Champions would have faced Tuesday the twenty-seventh of November, 2007. I'd have been really looking forward to it, watching them do whatever it was ... cheering on Georgia with everyone else, safe in a seat at the back of the stands ...

I wondered how the other Champions were feeling. Every time I saw Georgia in those days, she had been surrounded by admirers, and looked nervous but excited. I glimpse Ferdinand Desjardins from time to time in the corridors; he looked exactly like he always did, haughty and unruffled. And Outsider just sat there in the library, often accompanied by his brother, Kopa, poring over books.

I then thought about my parents, and the tight, tense knot in my chest eased slightly, for I would speak to them that night, for I remember thinking that I would be speaking to them in less than twelve hours at that moment by the common room fire - assuming that nothing went wrong, as everything else had up to that point. Little did I know, though, that something was going to happen which almost did ruin the meeting between my parents and I ...

"Look, it's Mina!" said Sian.

The back of Mina's enormous, smooth, silky hair emerged over the crowd. I wondered why she hadn't spotted me at once, as Mina was so large, but standing up carefully, I saw that Mina had been leaning low, talking to Professor Grumpy. Mina had her usual enormous tankard in front of her, but Grumpy was drinking from her hip-flask. Mr Smoothster, the dashing landlord, didn't seem to think much of this; he was looking askance at Grumpy as he collected glasses from the tables around us. Perhaps he thought it was an insult to his mulled mead, but I knew better. Grumpy had told us all during our last Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson that she preferred her own food and drink at all times, as it was so easy for Dark wizards to poison an unattended cup.

As I watched, I saw Mina and Grumpy get up to leave. I waved, then remembered that Mina couldn't see me. Grumpy, however, paused, one of her magical eyes fixed on the corner where I was standing. She tapped Mina in the small of the back (being unable to reach her shoulder), muttered something to her, and then the pair of them made their way back across the pub to mine, Chris and Sian's table.

"All righ', Sian? Chris?" said Mina loudly.

"Hello," said Chris and Sian simultaneously (Chris looking up from his sketchpad for the first time since he started sketching), smiling back.

Grumpy limped around the table and bent down; I thought she was looking down at Chris' drawing, or else was reading the H.A.M.E. notebook, until she muttered, "Nice Cloak, Pride-Lander."

I stared at her in amazement. The large chunk missing from Grumpy's nose was particularly obvious at a few inches distance. Grumpy grinned.

"Can your eyes - I mean, can you - ?"

"Yeah, they can see through Invisibility Cloaks," Grumpy said quietly. "And they've come in useful at times, I can tell you."

Mina was beaming down at me, too. I knew Mina couldn't see me, but Grumpy had obviously told Mina that I was there.

Mina had bent down on the prospect of reading the H.A.M.E. notebook as well, and said in a whisper so low that only I could hear it, "Kiara, meet me at midnight at me cabin. Wear that Cloak."

Straightening up, Mina said loudly, "Nice ter see yeh, Sian. An' you, Chris," winked, and departed. Grumpy followed her.

"Why does she want me to meet her at midnight?" I said, very surprised.

"Does she?" Chris said, lifting his head from the paper again, looking startled. "I wonder what she's up to?"

"I don't know," said Sian, looking anxious, "but I don't know whether you should go, Kiara ..." she looked nervously around and hissed, "It might make you late for your parents."

It was true that going down to Mina's at midnight would mean cutting my meeting with my parents very fine indeed; Sian suggested that I should have sent Harold down to Mina's to tell her that I couldn't go, but I thought it best to be quick at whatever Mina wanted me for. I was very curious to know what it could be; Mina had never asked me to visit her so late at night before then. I, of course, did find out why Mina asked for me so late at night, and I got a surprise when I saw what the reason was.

0000

At half past eleven that evening, I had pretended to go to bed early, so that I could get the Invisibility Cloak, which I pulled back over myself and crept back downstairs through the common room. Quite a few people were still in there. The McCreevy sisters had managed to get a hold of a stack of _Support GEORGIA DIGGS_ badges, and were trying to bewitch them to make them say _Support KIARA PRIDE-LANDER_ instead. So far, however, all they had managed to do was get the badges stuck on _KIARA PRIDE-LANDER STINKS_. I crept past them to the portrait hole and waited for a minute or so, keeping an eye on my watch. Then Sian opened the Fat Lord from the outside, with Chris following her in as we had planned. I slipped past them with a whispered "Thanks!" and set off through the castle.

The grounds were very dark that night, as I recall. I walked down the lawn towards the lights shining in Mina's cabin. The inside of the enormous Beauxbatons carriage was also lit up; I could hear Monsieur Legrand talking inside as I knocked on Mina's front door.

"You there, Kiara?" Mina whispered, opening the door and looking around.

"Yeah," I said, slipping inside the cabin and pulling the Cloak down off my head. "What's up?"

"Got summat ter show yeh," said Mina.

There was an air of enormous excitement about Mina. She had arranged her hair neatly with braids, which were laced neatly with an assortment of flowers, and was sporting a lovely rose perfume.

"What're you showing me?" I said wearily, wondering if the Crabs had laid eggs, or if Mina had managed to buy another giant three-headed cat off a stranger in a pub.

"We've gotta wait fer a few minutes jus' yet," Mina said, glancing anxiously at the door, "but when we go, keep quiet an' keep yerself covered with that Cloak. We won' take Gnasher, she won' like it ..."

"Listen, Mina, I can't stay long ... I've got to be up at the castle for one o'clock - "

Just then, there was a knock on the cabin door. Mina smiled widely and gestured for me to get under the Cloak (which I did, albeit reluctantly), as Mina answered the door.

"Mina, what - ?"

"Shhh!" said Mina, and she opened the door.

When she opened the door, I saw Monsieur Legrand standing on the other side. He wore a large coat over his black satin robes, and he handed Mina a large bouquet of red roses, which she accepted, blushing as she did so.

"Ah, Meenah ... it is time?" said Monsieur Legrand in his deep, strong voice.

"Bong-sewer," said Mina, beaming at him, as Monsieur Legrand handed her an arm to help her down the steps of her cabin.

I followed quickly before Monsieur Legrand shut the door behind him, and they set off past the Beauxbatons carriage and around the edge of the paddock containing Monsieur Legrand's giant winged horses, and I followed, totally bewildered, running to keep up. I wondered if Mina had wanted to show me Monsieur Legrand. I could see him any old time I wanted to ... after all, he wasn't exactly easy to miss ...

But it seemed that Monsieur Legrand was in for the same "treat" as I was, because after a while he said playfully, "Wair is it you are taking me, Meenah?"

"Yeh'll enjoy this," said Mina gruffly. "Worth seein', trust me. On'y - don' go tellin' anyone I showed yeh, right? Yeh're not s'posed ter know."

"Of course not," said Monsieur Legrand, beaming fondly at Mina. To be honest, I thought I was going to be sick from watching this mucky stuff.

Anyhoo, on we walked, and I was getting more and more irritable as I jogged along in their wake, checking my watch every now and then. Mina had some harebrained scheme in hand, which might have made me miss my parents. I thought to myself that if we didn't get their soon, that I was going to turn around, go straight back to the castle, and leave Mina to enjoy her moonlit stroll with Monsieur Legrand ...

But then - when we had walked so far around the perimeter of the Forest that the castle and the river were out of sight - I heard something. Men and women were shouting up ahead ... then came a deafening, ear-splitting roar ...

Even though Monsieur Legrand had Mina's hand tucked in the nook of his arm, it was _she_ who led him around a clump of trees, and came to a halt. I hurried up alongside them - for a split second, I thought I was seeing bonfires, and men and women darting around them - and then my mouth fell open.

 _Dragons._

Four fully-grown, enormous, vicious-looking dragons were roaring on their hind legs inside an enclosure fenced with thick planks of wood, roaring and snorting - torrents of fire were shooting into the dark sky from their open, fanged mouths, fifty feet above the ground on their outstretched necks. There was a silvery-blue one with long, pointed horns, snapping and snarling at the wizards on the ground; a smooth-scaled green one, which was writhing and stamping with all its might; a red one with an odd fringe of gold spikes around its face, which was shooting mushroom-shaped fire clouds into the air, and a gigantic black one, more lizard-like than the others, which was nearest to us.

At least thirty witches and wizards, seven or eight to each dragon, were attempting to control them, pulling on the chains connected to heavy leather straps around their necks and legs. Mesmerised, I looked high above me, and saw the eyes of the black dragon, with vertical pupils like a cat's, bulging with either fear or rage, I couldn't tell which ... it was making a horrible noise, a yowling, screeching scream ...

"Keep back there, Mina!" yelled a witch near the fence, straining on the chain she was holding. "They can shoot fire at a range of twenty feet, you know! I've seen this Horntail do forty!"

"Isn't it beautiful?" said Mina softly.

"It's no good!" yelled another witch. "Stunning Spells, on the count of three!"

I saw each of the dragon keepers pull out his or her wand.

 _"Stupefy!"_ they shouted in unison, and the Stunning Spells shot into the darkness like fiery rockets, bursting in showers of stars on the dragons' scaly sides -

I watched the dragon nearest to us teeter dangerously on its back legs; its jaws stretched wide into a suddenly silent howl; its nostrils were suddenly devoid of flame, though still smoking - then, very slowly, it fell - several tons of sinewy, scaly black dragon hit the ground with a thud that I could have sworn made the trees behind me quake.

The dragon-keepers lowered their wands and walked towards their fallen charges, each of which was the size of a small hill. They hurried to tighten the chains and fasten them securely to iron pegs which they forced into the ground with their wands.

"Wan' a closer look?" Mina asked Monsieur Legrand excitedly. The pair of them moved right up to the fence and I followed. The witch who had warned Mina not to come any closer turned, and I realised who it was - Kat Fang.

"All right, Mina?" she panted, coming over to talk. "They should be OK now - we put them out with a Sleeping Draught on the way here, thought it might be better for them to wake up in the dark and quiet - but, like you saw, they weren't happy, not happy at all - "

"What breeds you got here, Kat?" said Mina, gazing at the closest dragon - the black one - with something close to reverence. Its eyes were still just open. I could see a strip of gleaming yellow beneath its wrinkled black eyelid.

"This is a Hungarian Horntail," said Kat. "There's a Common Welsh Green over there, the smaller one - a Sweedish Short-Snout, the blue-grey one - and a Chinese Fireball, that's the red."

Kat looked around; Monsieur Legrand was strolling away around the edge of the enclosure, gazing at the Stunned dragons.

"I didn't know you were bringing him, Mina," Kat said, frowning. "The Champions aren't supposed to know what's coming - he's bound to tell his student, isn't he?"

"Jus' thought he'd like ter see 'em," shrugged Mina, still gazing, enraptured at the dragons.

"Really romantic date, Mina," said Kat, shaking her head.

"Four ..." said Mina, "So it's one fer each o' the Champions, is it? What've they gotta do - fight 'em?"

"Just get past them, I think," said Kat. "We'll be on hand if it gets nasty, extinguishing spells at the ready. They wanted nesting mothers, I don't know why ... but I tell you this, I don't envy the one who gets this Horntail. Vicious thing. Its back end's as dangerous as its front, look."

Kat pointed towards the Horntail's tail, and I saw long, bronze-coloured spikes protruding along it every few inches.

Five of Kat's fellow keepers staggered up to the Horntail at that moment, carrying a clutch of huge granite-grey eggs between them in a blanket. They placed them carefully at the Horntail's side. Mina let out a moan of longing.

"I've got them counted, Mina," said Kat, sternly. Then she said, "How's Kiara?"

"Fine," said Mina. She was still gazing at the eggs.

"Just hope she's still fine after she's faced this lot," said Kat grimly, looking out over the dragons' enclosure. "I didn't dare tell Uncle Matt what she's got to do for the first task, he's already enraged about the article that's come out about her ..." Kat then did a terrible imitation of her uncle's voice. " _"How could they let her enter the Tournament, she's much too young! I thought they were all safe, I thought there was going to be an Age Line!"_ He was even more upset by what they wrote about her in that interview she had with Peter Meter. _"I tell you this right now, that I don't believe a word of it! I mean what I say! I've heard what Susan, Sian, Chris and Chrissie have said about Kiara over these past few years, and from what they've said about her, I think that Peter made it all up in order for people to feel for her!"_ I think Aunt Sue may have had a word with him, but what do I know ..."

I had had enough by this point, though I was grateful that Mr Dawson didn't believe the article. Anyhoo, trusting to the fact that Mina wouldn't miss me, with the attractions of four dragons and Monsieur Legrand to occupy her, I turned silently and began to walk away back to the castle.

I didn't know whether or not to be pleased at what I'd seen to be coming for the first task. Perhaps that way was better. the first shock was over now. I knew that if I'd seen the dragon for the first time on that dreaded Tuesday, that I would have passed out cold in front of the whole school ... but then I thought that I would do, anyway ... after all, I was armed with only my wand - which at that moment felt like nothing more than a narrow strip of wood against a fifty-foot-high, scaly, spike-ridden, fire-breathing dragon. And then another thought hit me: how on earth was I going to get past it with the whole school - and the guest schools - watching me?

I sped up, skirting the edge of the Forest; I looked at my watch again, and saw that I had only fifteen minutes to get back to the fireside and talk to my parents, and I remember that at that precise moment that I couldn't remember, ever, wanting to talk to someone more than I did then - then, without warning, I ran into something very solid.

I fell backwards, clutching the Cloak around me. A nearby voice said, "Ouch! Who's there?"

I hastily checked that the Cloak was covering me and then I lay very still, staring up at the dark outline of the witch I had hit. I recognised the short, slightly-curled hair ... it was Kula.

"Who's there?" said Kula again, very suspiciously, looking around in the darkness. I remained still and silent. After a minute or so, Kula seemed to decide that she had hit some sort of animal; she was looking around at waist height, as though expecting to see a dog. Then she crept back under the cover of the trees, and started to edge forwards towards the place where the dragons were.

Very slowly and very carefully, I got to my feet and set off again, as fast as I could without making too much noise, hurrying through the darkness back towards Dragon Mort.

I had no doubt whatsoever of what Kula was up to. She had sneaked off her submarine to try and find out what the first task was going to be. She might even have spotted Mina and Monsieur Legrand heading off around the Forest together - they were hardly difficult to spot at a distance ... and now all Kula had to do was follow the sound of voices, and she, like Monsieur Legrand, would know what was in store for us Champions. By the looks of it, the only Champion who would be facing the unknown on Tuesday was Georgia.

I reached the castle, sneaked in through the front doors and began to climb the marble stairs; I was very out of breath, but I didn't dare slow down ... I had less than five minutes to get up to the fire ...

"Balderdash!" I gasped at the Fat Lord, who was snoozing in his frame in front of the portrait hole.

"If you say so," he muttered sleepily without opening his eyes, and the picture swung forwards to admit me. I climbed inside and, judging from the fact that it smelled quite normal, Chris and Sian had not resorted to setting off Dungbombs to ensure that my parents and I got some privacy.

I pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and threw myself into an armchair in front of the fire. The room was in semi-darkness; the flames were the only source of light. Nearby on a table, the _Support GEORGIA DIGGS_ badges the McCreevys had been trying to improve were glistening in the firelight. They now read _PRIDE-LANDER REALLY STINKS_. I looked back into the flames and jumped.

Both of my parents' heads were sitting in the fire. If I hadn't seen Mrs Diggs do exactly that back in the Dawson's kitchen, it would have scared me out of my wits. Instead, my face broke into the first smile I had worn since the article about the Tournament came out. I scrambled out of my chair, crouched down by the hearth and said, "Daddy, Mum - how are you doing?"

My parents looked different from when I had seen them ride off on Noelani together. When we said goodbye, my parents' faces had been gaunt and sunken, surrounded by quantities of brown (or golden, in my mother's case) hair, but the hair on my father's face was shorter and clean now. My mother's hair was still long (even though I saw her face in the fire, her hair certainly looked long) but was as clean as my father's. Their faces were fuller and they looked younger, much more like the parents I had seen in the photograph album of my parents that Mina had given me, and also like the picture that had been taken at their wedding.

"Never mind us, how are you?" my father said seriously.

"I'm - " for a second, I was about to say "fine" - but I couldn't do it. They were my parents, and they deserved the truth; and before I could stop myself, I was talking more than I'd talked in the days before that meeting - about how no one believed I hadn't entered the Tournament of my own free will, how Peter Meter had lied about me in the _Daily Squabbler_ , how I couldn't walk down a corridor without being sneered at - and about Chrissie, Chrissie not believing me, Chrissie's jealousy ...

" ... and now Mina's just shown me what's coming in the first task, and it's dragons, Daddy, and I'm a goner," I finished desperately. I'm pretty sure I was close to tears by this point.

My parents looked at me, concern filling their eyes, eyes which had not yet lost their Azkaban look - that deadened, haunted look. They had let me talk myself into silence without interruption, but then my mother said, "Kiara, honey, listen to me; we can deal with the dragons in a minute - but we haven't got long here ... your father and I have broken into a wizarding house to use the fire, but they could be back at any time. There are things we need to warn you about."

"Such as?" I said, as I felt my spirits slip a further few inches ... surely there could be nothing worse than dragons coming ... could there?

"Kula," my father said. "Kiara, she was a Love Destroyer. You know what Love Destroyers are, don't you?"

"Yes - she - what?"

"She was caught and put in Azkaban with your mother and I, but she got released. I'd bet everything that's why Crighton wanted an Auror at Dragon Mort this year - to keep an eye on her. Grumpy caught Kula. Put her in Azkaban in the first place."

"Kula got released?" I said slowly - my brain struggled to absorb yet another piece of shocking information. "Why did they release her?"

"She did a deal with the Ministry of Magic," said Mum bitterly, as my father shook his head as a dark look passed over both their faces. My mother continued, "She said she'd seen the error of her ways, and then she named names ... put a load of other people into Azkaban in their place ... she's not very popular in there, we can tell you. And since she got out, from what your father and I can tell you, she's been teaching the Dark Arts to every student who passes through that school of hers, so watch out for the Uagadou Champion as well."

"OK," I said slowly. "But ... are you saying that Kula put my name in the Goblet? Because if she did, she's a really good actress. She seemed furious about it. She wanted to stop me competing."

"We know she's a good actress," said Mum, "because she convinced the British Ministry of Magic to set her free, didn't she? Now, we've been keeping an eye on the _Daily Squabbler_ , Kiara - "

"You and the rest of the world," I said bitterly.

" - and I have to say, your father and I do not believe a word of what he wrote about you. We haven't known you that long, Kiara, but from what Crighton told us about you the end of last year, we know that you are stronger than Meter has painted you to be, and he clearly does not know us well enough to know what we would think - " my heart swelled at my parents' words " - but back to the point, reading between the lines of that Meter man's article about Grumpy, it seems she was attacked the night before she started at Dragon Mort. Yes, we know he says it was another false alarm," Mum said hastily, seeing as I was about to speak, "but we don't think so, somehow. Sweety, your father and I think that someone tried to stop her getting to Dragon Mort. I think someone knew their job would be a lot more difficult with her around. And no one's going to look into it too closely, for Crazy-Head's heard intruders a bit too often. But that doesn't mean she can't still spot the real thing. Grumpy was one of the best Aurors the Ministry ever had."

"So ... what are you guys saying?" I said slowly. "Kula's trying to kill me? But - why?"

My parents hesitated and looked each other, both wondering what to say.

My father was the one to answer first. "Kiara, darling, your mother and I have been hearing some very strange things," he said slowly. "The Love Destroyers seem to be a bit more active than usual lately. They showed themselves at the Quidditch Friendly, didn't they? Someone set off the Death Trail ... and then - did you hear about that Ministry of Magic wizard who went missing?"

"Bernard Jenkins? But what ..." Then something started stirring in my memory ... I had heard that name somewhere ... but I couldn't think where ...

I saw my parents looking at me worriedly. "Kiara?" my mother asked nervously.

"Is everything all right, my child?" my father asked. "Is there anything you have to tell us?"

I ignored my parents' questions and said quite quickly, "Tell me what you know about Bernard Jenkins!"

My parents were quite taken aback by my sudden demand, but my mother quickly responded and said, "Well, the last your father and I heard, he disappeared in Albania , and that's definitely where Zira was rumoured to be last ... and he would have known the Triwizard Tournament was coming up, wouldn't he?"

I nodded my head slowly, taking in this information. So, Bernard Jenkins was last spotted where Zira was hiding, was he? "Keep going," I said slowly.

"Listen, we knew Bernard Jenkins," my father said grimly. "He was at Dragon Mort when we were there, but a few years above us. And he was an idiot. Very nosy, but no brains, none at all. It's not a very good combination, Kiara. We say he'd be very easy to lure into a trap - Kiara, what is it?"

My parents looked at me worriedly, for I had gasped aloud in shock, was breathing quickly, was not noticing anything and had my hands clasped over my head. I remembered ... an old woman ... a couple - _married_ couple - in a room ... and something horrible was in a chair ... they were talking about him ... talking about how Wormy had lured Bernard Jenkins to her ... I took deep breaths before I looked at my parents and said, "I'm sorry, it's just ... my mind finally caught up with me ... for I figured out the person that Zira and the Absters were talking about in the dream - it was Bernard Jenkins!"

My parents looked at each other, shocked, before they looked back at me. After a few moments, Mum said, "Are you sure?"

"Positive," I said. Then I said, "I can't remember it in full detail, but I think I remember that Zira and Wormy's wife were complimenting him on luring Bernard Jenkins to Zira, and that he had told Zira about the Tournament."

"Hmm ..." my father said slowly. "So ... we know a little information about how Zira knew about the Tournament ... but as to whether Kula put you in the Goblet ... it just doesn't seem right to me that she would be the type who'd go back to Zira unless she knew Zira was powerful enough to protect her. But whoever put your name in that Goblet did it for a reason, and your mother and I can't help thinking the Tournament would be a very good way to attack you, and make it look like an accident."

"Looks like a really good plan from where I'm standing," I said bleakly. "They'll just have to stand back and let the dragons do their stuff."

"Right, these dragons," said my father, speaking very quickly now. "There's a way, Kiara. Don't be tempted to try a Stunning Spell - dragons are too strong and too powerfully magical to be knocked out by a single Stunner. You need about half-a-dozen wizards at a time to overcome a dragon - "

"Yeah, I know, I just saw," I said.

"But you can do it alone," my father said. "There is a way, and a simple spell's all you need. Just - "

But I held up a hand to silence him, my heart suddenly pounding as though it would burst. I could hear footsteps coming down the spiral staircase behind me.

"Go!" I hissed at my parents. " _Go!_ There's someone coming!"

I scrambled to my feet, hiding the fire - if someone saw my parents' faces within the walls of Dragon Mort, I knew they would raised an almighty uproar - the Ministry of Magic - and I, Kiara, their beloved daughter, would have been questioned about my parents' whereabouts -

I heard two pops in the fire behind me, and I knew that my parents had gone - my eyes were focused on the bottom of the spiral staircase - I wondered who had decided to go for a stroll at one o'clock in the morning, and who had interrupted my parents telling me how I was supposed to get past a dragon?

It was Chrissie. Dressed in a forest green nightgown, Chrissie stopped dead facing me across the room, and looked around.

"Who were you talking to?" she said.

"What's that got to do with you?" I snarled. "What are you doing down here at this time of night?"

"I just wondered what you - " Chrissie broke off, shrugging. "Nothing. I'm going back to bed."

"Just thought you'd come nosing around, did you?" I shouted. I know that Chrissie had no idea what she'd walked in on, and that she hadn't done it on purpose, but I didn't care at that moment - for all I knew at that moment was that I hated everything about Chrissie, right down to the dark green slippers with ribbons formed into bows, which were just peeking out of her gown.

"Sorry about that," said Chrissie, her face reddening with anger. "Should've realised you didn't want to be disturbed. I'll let you get on with practicing for your next interview in peace."

That was it for me. I seized one of the PRIDE-LANDER REALLY STINKS badges off of the table and chucked it, as hard as I could, across the room. It hit Chrissie on her forehead and bounced off.

"There you go," I said. "Something for you to wear on Tuesday. You might even have a scar now, if you're lucky ... that's what you want, isn't it?"

I strode across the room towards the stairs; I half expected Chrissie to stop me. I admit that I would have liked for Chrissie to have thrown a punch at me, but she did nothing. Chrissie just stood there in her forest green nightgown , and after I had stormed upstairs, I lay in my bed for a long time afterwards, and I didn't hear Chrissie come up to bed.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

 **The First Task**

 **KIARA**

I got up on Sunday morning and dressed so inattentively that it was a while before I realised that I was trying to pull my hat onto my foot instead of my sock. When I'd finally got all my clothes on the right parts of my body. I hurried off to find Chris and Sian, who were situated at the Lion-Heart table in the Great Hall, where they were eating breakfast with Beth, Kestrel and Merida. I felt too queasy to eat anything, so I waited until Chris and Sian had finished eating, then I dragged them out into the grounds for another walk. It was there that I told them all about the dragons, and about everything my parents had said, as we took another long walk around the river.

They were both clearly alarmed by my parents' warnings about Kula, but they both agreed that the dragons were the more pressing problem.

"Let's just try and keep you alive until Tuesday evening," Sian said desperately, "and then we can worry about Kula."

We walked three times around the river, trying all the way to think of a simple spell that would subdue a dragon. Nothing whatsoever occurred to us, so we retired to the library instead. Once there, I pulled down every book that I could find on dragons, and the three of us set to work searching through the large pile.

" _Talon-clipping by charms_ ... _treating scale rot_ ... this is no good, this is for nutters like Mina who want to keep them healthy ..."

" _Dragons are extremely difficult to slay, owing to the ancient magic that imbues their thick hides, which none but the most powerful spells can penetrate_ ... but my parents said that a simple spell would do it ..."

"Let's try some simple spellbooks, then" said Sian, throwing aside _Men Who Love Dragons Too Much_.

She returned to the table with a pile of spellbooks, set them down and the three of us began to flick through each in turn, Sian whispering non-stop at mine and Chris' elbows. "Well, there are Switching Spells ... but what's the point of Switching it? Unless you swapped its fangs for wine gums or something, that would make it less dangerous ... the trouble is, like that book said, not much is going to get through a dragon's hide ... I'd say Transfigure it, but something that big, you really haven't got a hope, I doubt even Professor Darbus ... unless you're supposed to put the spell on _yourself_? Maybe to give yourself extra powers? But _they're_ not simple spells, I mean, we haven't done any of these in class; I only know about them because I've been doing OWL practice papers ..."

"Sian," Chris said through gritted teeth, "will you shut up please? You're constant talking isn't helping Kiara to concentrate, you know."

I smiled gratefully at Chris, but the gratification was short-lived; for all that happened when Chris and Sian fell silent was that my brain was filled with a sort of blank buzzing, which didn't allow room for concentration. I stared hopelessly down the index of Basic Hexes for the Busy and Vexed: instant scalping ... but dragons had no hair ... pepper breath ... that would probably have increased the dragon's firepower ... horn tongue ... just what I needed, to give it an extra weapon ...

I was distracted by Sian, whose head had just popped up and spun towards the door, before she bent her head low again, face flushing. I looked round and saw Kopa, followed by Kovu Outsider. Kopa didn't even look our way, which I found odd, for I was sure that he would have looked at Sian. Whatever had happened between clearly had yet to be resolved. Anyhoo, Sian then suggested that we take our books back to the common room, so that we could concentrate better away from Outsider's fan club. But Chris and I weren't fooled; we just knew that she wanted to get away from the library because she was going to get distracted by Kopa's presence.

She wasn't wrong about Outsider's fan club though, for as we left the library, a gang of girls tip-toed past us in the library, one of whom was wearing a South African scarf tied around her waist.

0000

I barely slept that Sunday night. When I awoke on Monday, I seriously considered - not for the first time in my Dragon Mort years - running away from Dragon Mort. But as I looked around the Great Hall at breakfast time that Monday morning, and thought about what leaving the castle would mean, and I knew I couldn't do it. Dragon Mort at the time was my second home, the first, obviously, was my grandmothers' cottage. And speaking of my grandmothers, I knew that they and my parents would have been extremely disappointed that I had left, no matter how scared I was. At Dragon Mort and with my grandmothers I was happy ... well, I supposed that I must have been happy with my parents, too, but of course I couldn't remember that. Although, living in the Pride-Lands now, I can see why I was happy with my parents back in the day.

Anyhoo, somehow the knowledge that I would rather be at Dragon Mort facing a dragon, than back in the south of Wales, where I would have to face Aunt Mavuto and Uncle Frank (as well as my grandmothers) was good to know; it made me feel slightly calmer. I finished my bacon with difficulty (my throat wasn't working that well) and as Chris, Sian and I got up, I saw Georgia Diggs leaving the Badger-Stripes table.

It hit me then that Georgia still didn't know about the dragons ... the only person that didn't, if I was right in thinking that Legrand and Kula had already told Ferdinand and Outsider ...

"Chris, Sian, I'll see you both in the greenhouses," I said, coming to my decision as I watched Georgia leaving the Hall. "Co on, I'll catch you up."

"Kiara, you'll be late, the bell's about to ring - " Sian began, but I cut her off.

"I'll catch you up, OK?"

Chris dragged Sian off towards the grounds, as I went to the marble staircase. By the time I reached the bottom, Georgia was at the top. She was with a load of her sixth-year friends. I didn't want to talk to Georgia in front of them; they were among those who had been quoting Peter Meter's article at me every time I went near them. I followed Georgia at a distance, and saw that she was heading towards the Charms corridor, and that gave me an idea. Pausing at a distance from them, I pulled out my wand, and took careful aim.

 _"Diffindo!"_

Georgia's bag split. Parchment, quills and books spilled out of it onto the floor. Several bottles of ink smashed.

"Don't bother," said Georgia in an exasperated voice, as her friends bent down to help her, "tell Winds I'm coming, go on ..."

I was congratulating myself that for once one of my plans had gone without a hitch, for that was exactly what I had been hoping for. I slipped my wand back inside my robes, waited until Georgia's friends had disappeared into their classroom, and hurried up the corridor, which was empty of everyone but myself and Georgia.

"Hi," said Georgia, picking up a copy of _A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration_ that was splattered with ink. "My bag just split ... brand new quill and all ..."

I didn't want to beat about the bush, so I just decided to get straight to the point. "Georgia, the first task is dragons."

"What?" said Georgia, looking up.

"Dragons," I said, speaking quickly, in case Professor Winds came out to see where Georgia had got to. 2They've got four, one for each of us, and we have to get past them."

Georgia stared at me. I saw some of the panic that I had felt since that infamous Saturday night flickering in Georgia's grey eyes.

"Are you sure?" Georgia said, in a hushed voice.

"Dead sure," I said. "I've seen them."

"But how did you find out? We're not supposed to know ..."

"Never mind," I said quickly - I knew Mina would be in trouble if I told the truth. "But I'm not the only one who knows. Ferdinand and Outsider will know by now - Legrand and Kula know about the dragons, too."

Georgia straightened up, her arms full of inky quills, parchment and books, her ripped bag dangling off one shoulder. She stared at me, and there was a puzzled, almost suspicious look in her eyes.

"Why are you telling me?" she asked.

I looked at her in disbelief. I was sure that Georgia wouldn't have asked that if she had seen the dragons herself. I wouldn't have let my worst enemy face those monsters unprepared - well, perhaps Malty or Triphorm ... saying that now, though, I do feel guilty about the things I thought or said about Triphorm in those days, but that's entirely beside the point.

"It's just ... fair, isn't it?" I said to Georgia. "We all know now ... we're on the same footing, aren't we?"

Georgia was still looking at me in a slightly suspicious way when I heard a familiar clinking noise behind me. I turned around and saw Crazy-Head Grumpy emerging from a nearby classroom.

"Come with me, Pride-Lander," she growled. "Diggs, off you go."

I stared apprehensively at Grumpy. Had she overheard us? I sincerely hoped not. "Er - Professor, I'm supposed to be in Herbology ..."

"Never mind, Pride-Lander. In my office, please ..."

I followed her, wondering what was going to happen to me, as my self-congratulation for talking to Georgia faded to be replaced by panic, which had resonated through my body. Many questions went through my head: What if Grumpy wanted to know how I'd found out about the dragons? Would Grumpy go to Crighton and tell on Mina, or would she just turn me into a ferret instead? Well, it would have been easier for me to have got past a dragon if I was a ferret, for I'd have been smaller, less prone to injury, much less easy to see from a height of fifty feet ...

I followed Grumpy into her office. Grumpy closed the door behind us, all of her magical eyes fixed on me, as well as her normal ones. I'm not going to lie, having someone with six eyes staring at you is rather unnerving and pretty creepy.

"That was a very decent thing you just did, Pride-Lander," Grumpy said quietly.

I didn't know what to say to that; that certainly wasn't the reaction I had expected at all. At any rate, the panic that I had felt started to fade.

"Sit down," Grumpy said, and I sat, looking around.

I had visited that office twice before my fourth year, under two of its previous occupants. In Professor Gold's day, the walls had been plastered with beaming, winking pictures of Professor Gold herself. When Meers had lived there, you were more likely to come across a specimen of some fascinating, new Dark creature he had procured for us to study in class. In Grumpy's day, however, the office was full of a number of exceptionally odd objects that I supposed Grumpy had used in the days when she had been an Auror.

On her desk stood what looked like a large, cracked glass spinning top. I recognised it at once as a Sneakoscope, because I owned one myself, though it was much smaller than Grumpy's. In the corner on a small table stood an object that looked something like an extra-squiggly, golden television aerial that was humming slightly. What appeared to be a mirror hung opposite me on the wall, but it was not reflecting the room. Shadowy figures were moving around inside it, none of them clearly in focus.

"Like my Dark detectors, do you?" said Grumpy, who was watching me closely.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing at the squiggly golden aerial.

"Secrecy Sensor. Vibrates when it detects concealment and lies ... no use here, of course, too much interference - students in every direction lying about why they haven't done their homework. Been humming ever since I got here. I had to disable my Sneakoscope because it wouldn't stop whistling. It's extra-sensitive, picks up stuff about a mile around. Of course, it could be picking up more than kids' stuff," she added in a growl.

"And what's that mirror for?"

"Oh, that's my Foe-Glass. See them out there, skulking around? I'm not really in trouble until I see the whites of their eyes. That's when I open up my trunk."

She let out a short, harsh laugh, and pointed to the large trunk under the window. It had seven keyholes in a row. I wondered what was in there, until Grumpy's next question brought me sharply back to earth.

"So ... found out about the dragons, have you?"

I hesitated. I had been afraid of this talk - but I hadn't told Georgia, and I certainly wasn't going to tell Grumpy that Mina had broken the rules.

"It's all right," said Grumpy, sitting down and stretching her wooden leg with a groan. "Cheating's a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and always has been."

"I didn't cheat," I said sharply. "It was - a sort of accident that I found out."

Grumpy grinned. "I wasn't accusing you, lass. I've been telling Crighton from the start, she can be as high-minded as she likes, but you can bet old Kula and Legrand won't be. They'll have told their Champions everything they can. They want to win. They want to beat Crighton. They'd like to prove she's only human."

Grumpy gave another harsh laugh, and her magical eyes swivelled around so fast that it made me feel queasy to watch them.

"So ... got any ideas on how you're going to get past your dragon yet?" said Grumpy.

"No," I said.

"Well, I'm not going to tell you," said Grumpy gruffly. "I don't show favouritism, me. I'm just going to give you some good, general advice. And the first bit is - _play to your strengths_."

"I haven't got any," I said, before I could stop myself.

"Excuse me," growled Grumpy, "you've got strengths if I say you've got them. Think now. What are you best at?"

I tried to concentrate. What _was_ I best at? Well, that was an easy one for me to answer, really -

"Quidditch," I said dully, "and a fat lot of help - "

"That's right," said Grumpy, staring at me very hard, her magical eyes barely moving at all. "You're a damn good flier, from what I've heard."

"Yeah, but ..." I stared at her. "I'm not allowed a broom, I've only got my wand - "

"My second piece of general advice," said Grumpy loudly, interrupting me, "is to use a nice, simple spell which will enable you to _get what you need_."

I looked at her blankly. What did I need?

"Come on, girl ..." whispered Grumpy. "Put them together ... it's not that difficult ..."

And then it clicked. I was best at flying. I needed to pass the dragon in the air. For that, I needed my Firecracker. And for my Firecracker, I needed -

"Chris, Sian," I whispered, when I had sped into greenhouse three ten minutes later, uttering a hurried apology to Spud as I passed him, "Chris, Sian - I need you to help me."

"What do you think we've been trying to do, Kiara?" Sian whispered before Chris could say anything, their eyes round with anxiety over the top of the quivering Flutterby Bush they were pruning.

Chris, Sian, I need you to teach me how to do a Summoning Charm properly by tomorrow afternoon."

0000

And so we practiced. We skipped lunch, and headed for a free classroom, where I tried with all my might to make various objects fly across the room towards me. I was still having problems. The books and quills kept losing heart halfway across the room and dropping like stone to the floor.

"Concentrate, Kiara, _concentrate_ ..." Sian hissed.

"What d'you think I'm trying to do?" I said angrily. "A filthy great dragon keeps popping up in my head for some reason ..."

"That's because you're scared," said Chris. Sian and I stared at him. Chris shrugged and said, "It's your subconscious telling you that you're scared by forming itself into the thing you fear the most - in this case, a dragon. And you have every right to be. But if you're going to survive tomorrow, you have to get over that fear. Now, take a deep, calming breath, and let's try again ..."

I wanted to skip Divination to keep practicing, but Chris didn't want to miss Arithmancy and Sian didn't want to miss Ancient Runes, and there was no point staying without them. I therefore had to endure over an hour of Professor Crystals, who had spent half the lesson telling everyone that the position of Mars in Relation to Saturn at that moment meant that people born in July were in great danger of sudden, violent deaths.

"Well, that's good," I said loudly, my temper getting the better of me, "just as long as it's drawn-out, I don't want to suffer."

I was sure that I had seen Chrissie's lips twitch and tremble as though she was going to laugh; she certainly caught my eyes for the first time in days, but I still felt too resentful towards Chrissie to care. I spent the rest of the lesson trying to attract small objects towards me under the table with my wand. I managed to make a fly zoom straight into my hand, though I wasn't sure that was owing to my prowess at Summoning Charms - perhaps the fly was just stupid.

I forced down some dinner after Divination was done, then returned to the empty classroom with Chris and Sian, using the Invisibility Cloak to avoid the teachers. We kept practicing until past midnight, and we would have stayed longer had it not been for the annoying poltergeist Weeves, who showed up, and thought that I wanted things thrown at me, and so started chucking chairs across the room at me. Chris, Sian and I left in a hurry before the noise attracted Matchstick, and we went back to the Lion-Heart common room, which was mercifully empty when we got there.

At two o'clock in the morning, I stood near the fireplace, surrounded by heaps of objects - books, quills, several upturned chairs, an old set of Gobstones and Nikita's toad, Tina. Only in the last hour had I really got the hang of the Summoning Charm.

"That's better, Kiara, that's loads better," Sian said, looking exhausted, but very pleased.

"Well, now we know what to do the next time I can't manage a spell," I said, throwing a Rune Dictionary back to Chris, so that I could try again, "threaten me with a dragon. Right ..." I raised my wand once more. _"Accio Dictionary!"_

The heavy book soared out of Chris' hand, flew across the room, and I caught it.

"Kiara, I really think you've got it!" said Sian delightedly, as Chris nodded in agreement.

"Just as long as it works tomorrow," I said. "The Firecracker's going to be much further than the stuff in here; it's going to be in the castle, and I'm going to be out there in the grounds ..."

"That doesn't matter," said Chris firmly. "Just as long as you're concentrating really, really hard on it, it'll come. Kiara, we'd better get some sleep ... you're going to need it."

0000

I had been focusing so hard on learning the Summoning Charm the evening before, that some of my blind panic had left me. It returned in full measure, however, on the morning of the first task. The atmosphere in the school was one of great tension and excitement. Lessons were to stop at midday, giving all the students time to get down to the dragons' enclosure - though of course, they did not yet know what they would find there.

I felt oddly separate from everyone around me that day, whether they were wishing me good luck or hissing _"We'll have a box of tissues ready, Pride-Lander"_ as I passed. It was a state of nervousness so advanced that I wondered whether I mightn't just lose my head when they tried to lead me out to my dragon, and start trying to curse everyone in sight.

Time was moving in a more peculiar fashion than ever for me that day, running past in great dollops, so that one moment I was sitting down in my first lesson, History of Magic, and the next, walking into lunch ... and then (Where had the morning gone? The last of my dragon-free hours?) Professor Darbus was hurrying over to me in the Great Hall. Lots of people were watching.

"Pride-Lander, the Champions have to come down into the grounds now ... you have to get ready for your first task."

"OK," I said, standing up, my fork falling onto my plate with a clatter.

"Good luck, Kiara," Sian whispered.

"Yeah, you'll be fine!" Chris said, with a wink.

"Yeah," I said, in a voice that was most unlike my own.

I left the Great Hall with Professor Darbus. She didn't seem like herself, either; in fact, if I thought Chris and Sian looked anxious, then it was nothing to how Professor Darbus looked, for she looked downright terrified. As she walked me down the stone steps and out into the cold November afternoon, she put a trembling hand on my shoulder.

"Now, don't panic," she said, "just keep a cool head ... we've got wizards on hand to control the situation if it gets out of hand ... the main thing is just to do your best, and nobody will think any worse of you ... are you all right?"

"Yes," I heard myself say. "Yes, I'm fine."

She was leading me towards the place where the dragons were, around the edge of the Forest, but when we approached the clump of trees behind which the enclosure would be clearly visible, I saw that a tent had been erected, its entrance facing us, screening the dragons from view.

"You're to go in here with the other Champions," said Professor Darbus, in a rather shaky sort of voice, "and wait for your turn, Pride-Lander. Miss Baxter is in there ... she'll be telling you the - the procedure ... good luck."

"Thanks," I said in a flat, distant voice. She left me at the entrance of the tent. I went inside.

Ferdinand Desjardin was sitting in a corner on a low wooden stool. He didn't look nearly as composed as usual, but rather pale and clammy. Kovu Outsider looked even grumpier than usual, and every so often would emit a low growl at nothing in particular, which I supposed was his way of showing nerves. Georgia was pacing up and down. When I entered, she gave me a small smile, which I returned, feeling the muscles in my face working rather hard, as though they'd forgotten how to do it.

"Kiara! Good-oh!" said Baxter happily, looking around at me. "Come in, come in, make yourself at home!"

Baxter looked somehow like a slightly overgrown cartoon figure, standing amid all the pale-faced Champions. She was wearing her old Lancashire robes again.

"Well, now we're all here - time to fill you in!" said Baxter brightly. "When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag - " she held up a small sack of purple silk, and shook it at us - "from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different - er - varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else, too ... ah, yes ... your task is to _collect the golden egg_!"

I glanced around. Georgia had nodded to show that she had understood Baxter's words, and then started pacing around the tent again; she looked slightly green. Ferdinand Desjardin and Outsider hadn't reacted at all. Perhaps they thought they might be sick if they opened their mouths; that was certainly how I was feeling in that tent. But they, at least, had volunteered for this thing ...

And in no time at all, hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of feet could be heard passing the tent, their owners talking excitedly, laughing, joking ... I felt as separate from the crowd as if they were a different species. And then - it felt about a second later to me - Baxter was opening the neck of the purple silk bag.

"Ladies first," she said, offering it to Georgia Diggs.

She put a shaking hand inside the bag, and out came the perfect, tiny model of the blueish-grey Swedish Short-Snout, with the number "one" tied around its neck. Baxter then handed the bag to Ferdinand Desjardin, who also had a case of trembling hands; for when he pulled his shaking hand back out of the bag, he held in his hand the Welsh Green, which had the number "two" around its neck; and I knew, by the fact that Ferdinand showed no sign of surprise, but rather a determined resignation, that I was right: Monsieur Legrand had told him what was coming.

The same held true for Outsider. He pulled out the scarlet Chinese Fireball. It had a number "three" around its neck. He didn't even blink, just stared at the ground.

Then it was my turn. Knowing what was left, I put my hand into the silk bag, and pulled out the Hungarian Horntail, and the number "four". It stretched its wings as I looked down at it, and bared its miniscule fangs at me.

"Well, there you are!" said Baxter. "You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? Now, I'm going to leave you in a moment, because I'm commentating. Miss Diggs, you're first, so just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right? Now ... Kiara ... could I have a word? Outside?"

"Er ... yes," I said blankly, and I followed her out of the tent. Baxter led me a short way into the trees, and then turned to me with a motherly expression on her face.

"Feeling all right, Kiara? Anything I can do to help?"

"What?" I said. "I - no, nothing."

"Got a plan?" said Baxter, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Because I won't mind sharing a few pointers, if you'd like them, you know. I mean," Baxter continued, lowering her voice still further, "you're the underdog here, Kiara ... anything I can do to help ..."

"No," I said, so quickly that I knew I sounded rude, "no - I - I've decided what I'm going to do, thanks."

"Nobody would _know_ , Kiara," said Baxter, winking at me.

"No, I'm fine," I said, wondering why I kept telling people that, and wondering when I'd ever felt less fine in my life (there were other times in the future, but we'll get to them later). "I've got a plan worked out, I - "

A whistle had blown somewhere.

"Good Lord, I've got to run!" said Baxter in alarm, and she hurried off.

I walked back into the tent, and saw Georgia emerging from it, greener than ever. I tried to wish her luck as she walked past, but all that came out of my mind was a kind of hoarse grunt.

I went back inside to Ferdinand and Outsider. Seconds later, we heard the roar of the crowd, which meant Georgia had entered the enclosure, and was face to face with the living counterpart of her model ...

It was worse than I could ever have imagined, sitting there and listening. The crowd screamed ... yelled ... gasped like a single, many-herded entity, as Georgia did whatever she was doing to get past the Swedish Short-Snout. Outsider was still staring at the ground, while Ferdinand had taken to retracing Georgia's steps, round and round the tent. And Baxter's commentary made everything much, much worse ... horrible pictures formed in my mind as I heard: "Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow" ... "She's taking risks, this one!" ... " _Clever_ move - pity it didn't work!"

And then, after about fifteen minutes, I heard the deafening roar that could only mean one thing: Georgia had got past her dragon, and had seized her golden egg.

"Very good, indeed!" Baxter was shouting. "And now the marks from the judges!"

But she didn't shout out the marks; I supposed the judges were holding them up and showing them to the crowd.

"One down, three to go!" Baxter yelled, as the whistle blew again. "Mr Desjardin, if you please!"

Ferdinand was trembling from head to foot; I felt more warmly towards him than I had done up to that point, as he left the tent with his head held high, and his hand clutching his wand. Outsider and I were left alone, at opposite sides of the tent, avoiding each other's eyes.

The same process started again ... "Oh, I'm not sure that was wise!" we heard Baxter shouting gleefully. "Oh ... nearly! Careful now ... good Lord, I'd thought he'd had it then!"

Ten minutes later, I heard the crowd erupt into applause once more ... Ferdinand must have been successful, too. A pause, while Ferdinand's marks were being shown ... more clapping ... then, for the third time, the whistle.

"And here comes Mr Outsider!" cried Baxter, and Outsider marched out, leaving me quite alone.

I remember feeling much more aware of my body than usual when I was left alone; I was very aware of how fast my heart was pounding, and how my fingers tingled with fear ... yet at the same time, I seemed to be outside myself, seeing the walls of the tent, and hearing the crowd, as though from far away ...

"Very daring!" Baxter was yelling, and I heard the Chinese Fireball emit a horrible, roaring shriek, while the crowd drew its collective breath. "That's some nerve he's showing - and - yes, he's got the egg!"

Applause shattered the wintery air like breaking glass; Outsider had finished - it would be my turn at any moment.

I stood up, dimly noticing that my legs seemed to be made of marshmallows as I did. I waited, my heart beating so fast that I thought it was going to jump out of my chest. And then I heard the whistle blow. I took a deep breath for courage, then walked out through the entrance of the tent, as the panic rose into a crescendo inside me. And then I was walking past the trees and through a gap in the enclosure fence.

I saw everything in front of me as though it were a highly coloured dream. There were hundreds and hundreds of faces staring down at me from stands which had been magicked there since I'd last stood at that spot. And there was the Horntail, at the other end of the enclosure, crouched low over her clutch of eggs, her wings half-furled, her evil, yellow eyes upon me, a monstrous, scaly black lizard thrashing her spiked tail, leaving yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground. The crowd was making a great deal of noise, but whether friendly or not, I didn't know or care. It was time for me to do what I had to do ... to focus my mind, entirely and absolutely, upon the thing that was my only chance ...

I raised my wand.

 _"Accio Firecracker!"_ I shouted.

I waited, every fibre of my being hoping, praying ... if it hadn't worked ... if it wasn't coming ... I seemed to be looking at everything around me through some sort of shimmering, transparent barrier, like a heat haze, which made the enclosure and the hundreds of fingers around me swim strangely ...

And then I heard it, speeding through the air behind me; I turned and saw my Firecracker hurtling towards me around the edge of the woods, soaring into the enclosure, and stopped dead in mid-air beside me, waiting to be mounted. The crowd was making even more noise ... Baxter was shouting something ... but my ears didn't seem to be working properly ... listening could wait ...

I swung my leg over the broom, and kicked off from the ground. And a second later, something miraculous happened ...

As I soared upwards, as I felt the familiar feeling of the wind rushing through my hair, as the crowd's faces became mere flesh-coloured pinpricks below, and the Horntail shrank to the size of a dog, I realised that I had not only left the ground behind, but also my fear ... I was back where I belonged ...

All it was was another Quidditch match ... just another Quidditch match, and the Horntail was just another ugly opposing team ...

I looked down at the clutch of eggs and spotted the gold one, gleaming against its cement-coloured fellows, residing safely between the dragon's front legs. "OK," I told myself, "diversionary tactics ... let's go ..."

I dived. The Horntail's head followed me; I knew just what it was going to do, and pulled out of the dive just in time; a jet of fire had been released exactly where I would have been had I not swerved away ... but I didn't care ... for me, that was no more than dodging a Bludger ...

"Great Scott, she can fly!" yelled Baxter, as the crowd shrieked and gasped. "Are you watching this, Mr Outsider?"

I soared higher in a circle; the Horntail was still following my progress; its head revolving on its long neck - if I kept on doing that, I would make the dragon dizzy - but better not push it too long, or it would be breathing fire again -

I plummeted just as the Horntail opened its mouth, but this time I was less lucky - I missed the flames (obviously!), but the tail came whipping up to meet me instead, and as I swerved to the left, one of the long spikes grazed my shoulder, ripping my robes -

I could feel it stinging as I heard screams and groans from the crowd, but the cut didn't seem to be deep ... I then zoomed around the back of the Horntail, and a possibility occurred to me ...

The Horntail was too protective of her eggs, which was why she didn't want to take off. As much as she writhed and twisted, furled and unfurled her wings, and kept her fearsome yellow eyes fixed on me, she was afraid to move too far from them ... so I decided to try and persuade her to do it, or I'd never get anywhere near them ... the trick was to do it carefully, gradually ...

I began to fly, first one way, then the other, not near enough to make her breathe fire to stave me off, but still posing sufficient threat to ensure she kept her eyes on me. Her head swayed this way and that, watching me out of those vertical pupils, her fangs bared ...

I flew higher. The Horntail's head rose with me, her neck now stretched to its fullest extent, still swaying, like a snake before its charmer ...

I rose a few more feet, and she let out a roar of exasperation. I was like a fly to her, a fly she was longing to swat; her tail thrashed again, but I was too high to reach now ... she shot fire into the air, which I dodged ... her jaws opened again ...

"Come on," I hissed, swerving tantalisingly above her, "come on, come and get me ... up you get, now ..."

And then she reared, spreading her great black leathery wings at last, as wide as those of a small aeroplane - and I dived. Before the dragon knew what I had done, or where I had disappeared to, I was speeding towards the ground as fast as I could go, towards the eggs now unprotected by her elaborated front legs - I had taken my hands off my Firecracker - I had seized the golden egg -

And with a huge spurt of speed, I was soaring out over the stands, the heavy egg safely under my uninjured arm, and it was as though somebody had just turned the volume back up - for the first time, I became properly aware of the noise of the crowd, which was screaming and applauding as loudly as the Irish supporters at the Quidditch Friendly -

"Look at that!" Baxter was yelling. "Will you look at that! Our youngest Champion is the quickest to get her egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Miss Pride-Lander!"

I saw the dragon-keepers rushing forwards to subdue the Horntail, and, over at the entrance to the enclosure, Professor Darbus, Professor Grumpy and Mina were hurrying to meet me, all of them waving me towards them, their smiles evident even from the distance I was at. I flew back over the crowd, the noise of the crowd pounding my eardrums, and I came to a smooth landing, my heart lighter than it had been in weeks ... I had got through the first task ... I had survived ...

"That was excellent, Pride-Lander!" cried Professor Darbus as I got off the Firecracker - which from her was extravagant praise. I noticed that her hand shook as she pointed at my shoulder. "You'll need to see Matron before the judges give out your score ... over there, she's had to mop up Miss Diggs already ..."

"Yeh did it, Kiara!" said Mina hoarsely. "Yeh did it! An' agains' the Horntail an' all, an' yeh know Kat said that was the wors' - "

"Thanks, Mina," I said loudly, so that Mina didn't blunder on and reveal that she had shown me the dragons beforehand.

Professor Grumpy looked very pleased, too; her magical eyes were dancing in their sockets.

"Nice and easy does the trick, Pride-Lander," she growled.

"Right then, Pride-Lander, the first-aid tent, please ..." said Professor Darbus.

I walked out of the enclosure, still panting, and saw Matron standing at the mouth of a second tent, looking worried.

"Dragons!" she said in a disgusted tone, pulling me inside. The tent was divided into cubicles; I could make out Georgia's shadow through the canvas, but Georgia didn't seem to be badly injured; she was sitting up at least. Matron examined my shoulder, talking furiously all the while. "Last year Stingers, this year dragons, what are they going to bring into this school next? You're very lucky ... this is quite shallow ... it'll need cleaning before I heal it up, though ..."

She cleaned the cut with a dab of some purple liquid which smoked and stung, but then poked my shoulder with her wand, and I felt it heal instantly.

"Now, just sit quietly for a few moments - _sit_! And then you can go and get your score."

She bustled out of the tent and I heard her go next door and say, "How does it feel now, Diggs?"

I didn't want to sit still; I was still too full of adrenaline. I got to my feet, wanting to see what was going on outside, but before I'd reached the mouth of the tent, I heard a pair of feet running towards the tent, and then next thing I knew, I felt a pair of arms engulf me, with such force that I staggered back slightly.

When I had regained my composure, it was then that I recognised the familiar scent of the boy whose arms were wrapped around me: the smell of pine and fresh berries. I then recognised the shock that came from the embrace, and when I closed my eyes, I saw colours and shapes and pictures flash before me, each vivid, but I also felt his fear and anxiety and strong sense of relief that had just started to come through. I remained frozen for a few moments before I wrapped my arms around Chris, and started to rub my hands up and down his back in order to soothe him.

After a few moments of being in his warm embrace, Chris let go of me. I smiled reassuringly at him, as he gently stroked a few locks of my hair from my face, and looked at me with relief pouring from his eyes, so much relief that I was shocked. And I wasn't the only one; for when Chris stood aside, I saw two other people standing at the entrance of the tent. It was Sian - and Chrissie of all people!

"Kiara, you were brilliant out there!" Sian said shakily. Her eyes were brighter than normal, and I could see she was struggling to hold back tears. "You were amazing! You really were!"

But my eyes were on Chrissie, who was very white, and was looking at me as though I were a ghost.

"Kiara," she said, very seriously, "whoever put your name in that Goblet - I - I reckon they're trying to do you in!"

It was as though the last few weeks had never happened - as though I had met Chrissie for the first time right after I'd been made Champion.

"Caught on, have you?" I said coldly. "Took you long enough."

Chris and Sian stood on the outskirts of our circle, watching us nervously, both looking from one of us to the other. Chrissie opened her mouth uncertainly. I knew she was about to apologise and, suddenly, I found that I didn't need to hear it.

"It's OK," I said, before Chrissie could get the words out. "Forget it."

"No," said Chrissie. "I shouldn't've - "

 _"Forget it,"_ I said.

Chrissie grinned nervously at me, and I grinned back.

Next thing Chrissie and I knew, Sian had dashed forward and had embraced us both at the same time. We were shocked at this, Chris included; I could see him out of the corner of my eye, watching us with an expression that was torn between shock and amusement, which isn't surprising, for I've learnt over the years that everything with Sian is almost always unpredictable. Anyhoo, Sian quickly let go of Chrissie and I, looked at us with an expression that was torn between happiness and exasperation, and said, "Honestly, you two have been behaving like a pair of ninnies these past few weeks!" Then letting out a half-chuckle, she left the tent, shaking her head as she went.

Chris, Chrissie and I stood in shock for a few moments, before we laughed at Sian. After the laughter had subsided, Chris told us he was going to see if Sian was all right, and left me and Chrissie alone.

"You know, sometimes I _really_ do not understand my sister," Chrissie said, shaking her head. "Kiara, c'mon, they'll be putting up your scores ..."

Picking up the golden egg and my Firecracker, feeling more elated than I would have believed possible an hour ago, I ducked out of the tent, Chrissie by my side, talking fast.

"You were the best, you know, no competition. Georgia did this weird thing where she Transfigured a rock on the ground ... turned it into a dog ... she was trying to make the dragon go for the dog instead of her. Well, it was a pretty cool bit of Transfiguration, and it sort of worked, because she did get the egg, but she got burnt as well - the dragon changed its mind halfway through and decided it would rather have her than the Labrador; she only just got away. And that Ferdinand boy tried this sort of charm; I think he was trying to put it into a trance - well, that kind of worked, too, it went all sleepy, but then it snored, and this great jet of flame shot out, and his pants caught fire - he had to put it out with a bit of water out of his wand. And Outsider - you won't believe this, but he didn't even think of flying! He was probably the best after you, though. Transformed himself into a lion and ran in all directions, trying to make the dragon come after him - which it kind of did, but it trampled some of the real eggs - they took marks off him for that; he wasn't supposed to do any damage to them."

Chrissie drew breath as she and I reached the edge of the enclosure. With the Horntail removed, I saw the five judges sitting at the other end in raised seats that were draped in gold.

"It's marks out of ten for each one," Chrissie said, and as I squinted up the field, I saw the first judge - Monsieur Legrand - raise his wand into the air. What looked like a long, silver ribbon shot out of it, which twisted itself into a large figure of eight.

"Not bad," said Chrissie, as the crowd applauded. "I supposed he took marks off for your shoulder ..."

Mrs Clutch came next. She shot a number nine into the air.

"Looking good!" Chrissie yelled, squeezing my shoulder.

Next, Crighton. She, too, put up a nine. the crowd was cheering harder than ever.

Lynn Baxter - _ten_.

"Ten?" I said in disbelief. "But ... I got hurt ... what's she playing at?"

"Kiara, don't complain!" Chrissie yelled excitedly.

And then Kula raised her wand. She paused for a moment, and then a number shot out of it, too - four.

 _"What?"_ Chrissie bellowed furiously. " _Four?_ You lousy biased scumbag, you gave Outsider ten!"

But I didn't care, and I wouldn't have cared if Kula had given me zero; Chrissie's indignation on my behalf was worth about a hundred points to me. I have never told Chrissie that to this day (I'm sure she'll find out once she reads this, though), but my heart felt lighter than air as I turned to leave the enclosure. And it wasn't just Chrissie ... those weren't only Lion-Hearts cheering in the crowd; now that I think about it, when they had seen what I was facing, most of the school had been on my side, as well as Georgia's ... I didn't care about the Snake-Eyes, for I took whatever they threw at me after that.

"You're in first place, Kiara! You and Outsider!" said Kat Fang, hurrying to meet me as we set off back towards the school. "Listen, I've got to run, I've got to go and send Uncle Matt an owl, because I swore that I'd tell him what happened - but that was unbelievable! Oh yeah - and they told me to tell you that you've got to hang around for a few more minutes ... Baxter wants a word, back in the Champions' tent."

Chrissie said she would wait, so I re-entered the tent, which somehow looked quite different to when I'd first entered it; more friendly and welcoming. I thought back to how I'd felt dodging the Horntail, and compared it to the long wait before I'd walked out to face it ... there was no comparison, the wait had been immeasurably worse.

Ferdinand, Georgia and Outsider all came in together.

One side of Georgia's face was covered in a thick orange paste, which was presumably mending her burn. She grinned at me when she saw me. "Good one, Kiara!"

"And you," I said, grinning back.

"Well done, _all_ of you!" said Lynn Baxter, bouncing into the tent, and looking as pleased as though she personally had just got past a dragon. "Now, just a quick few words. You've got a nice long break before the second task, which will take place at half past nine on the morning of February the twenty-fifth - but we're giving you something to think about in the meantime! If you look down at those golden eggs you are all holding, you will see that they will open ... see the hinges there? You need to solve the clue inside the egg - because it will tell you what the second task is, and enable you to prepare for it! Oh, and the egg also hides a secret in it, which you will need for the second task! All clear? Sure? Well, off you go, then!"

I left the tent, re-joined Chrissie, and we started to walk back around the edge of the Forest, talking hard; I wanted to hear about what the other Champions had done in more detail. Then, as we rounded the clump of trees behind which I had first heard the dragons roar, a wizard leapt out from behind them.

It was Peter Meter. He wore acid-green robes that day; the Quick-Quotes Quill in his hand blended perfectly against them.

"Congratulations, Kiara!" he said, beaming at me. "I wonder if you could give me a quick word? How you felt facing the dragon? How you feel now about the fairness of the scoring?"

"Yeah, you can have a word," I said savagely. " _Goodbye._ Will that do for you?"

And without waiting for an answer, I set off back to the castle with Chrissie (see, I told you it wouldn't be long before Chrissie and I made up).

 **A.N.: Hello, dear readers! Sorry I haven't updated in a while. This chapter was supposed to be up on the tenth of July (my birthday, in case you want to know), but unfortunately my power went out, and I've had trouble with moving and changing my broadband and all sorts of hard stuff that life sometimes throws at us - but never fear, I'm back now! I should also tell you that I have finished writing out the fifth book on paper and have started on the sixth. And how brilliant was the Cursed Child script? Yes, I have read it, if you want to know. Anyway, I'll be back with another chapter some time this week.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

 **Liberty For House-Elves!**

 **KIARA**

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I went up to the Owlery that evening to find Piggledon and Harold, so that I could write two letters: one to my grandmothers, and the other to my parents. On the way, I filled Chrissie in on everything my parents had told me about Kula. Though shocked at first to hear that Kula had been a Love Destroyer; by the time we entered the Owlery, Chrissie was saying that we ought to have expected it all along.

"Fits, doesn't it?" she said. When she saw Chris, Sian and I looking at her in confusion, Chrissie added, "Oh, I forgot that we weren't talking. Well, a few weeks ago, I overheard Malty talking to Crate, Gabber and Rae-Bradley that her mum and Kula knew each other. They were probably running around in masks together at the Quidditch Friendly ... I'll tell you one thing, though, Kiara, if it _was_ Kula who put your name in the Goblet, she's going to be feeling really stupid now, isn't she? Didn't work, did it? You only got a scratch! Come here - I'll do it - "

Piggledon was so excited at the idea of a delivery; he was flying round and round my head, hooting incessantly. Chrissie snatched Piggledon out of the air and held him still as Chris attached the letter to my parents to his leg, as I attached the letter to my grandmothers to Harold's.

"There's no way any of the other tasks are going to be that dangerous, how could they be?" Chrissie went on, as she and I carried our owls to the window. "You know what? I reckon you could win this Tournament, Kiara. I'm serious."

I knew that Chrissie was only saying that to make up for her behaviour to me from the night my name was chosen to just after I had completed the first task, but I appreciated it all the same. Chris and Sian, however, were leaning against the wall, their arms folded, both of them frowning at Chrissie.

"Kiara's got a long way to go before she finishes this Tournament," Sian said seriously, "if that was the first task, I hate to think what's coming next."

"Sian's right, Chrissie," Chris said. "There's still a long way to go before the Tournament is over and done with."

"Right little rays of sunshine you two are," said Chrissie. "You and Sian should get together some time, Chris."

She threw Piggledon out of the window, at the same time that I let go of Harold. As Harold flew straight on, Piggledon plummeted twelve feet before managing to pull himself back again, because he was much smaller than Harold; the letter attached to his leg was much longer than usual - I hadn't been able to resist giving my parents a blow-by-blow account of exactly how I had swerved, circled and dodged the Horntail. The letter to my grandmothers was slightly larger, too; not only did I put in every detail of how I had fought the Horntail, but before that I also put in the information that my parents had given me about Kula, and their warnings to be wary of her and Outsider.

We watched Piggledon and Harold disappear into the darkness, and then Chrissie said, "Well, we'd better get downstairs for your surprise party, Kiara - Tanya and Geri should've nicked enough food from the kitchens by now."

Sure enough, when we reached the Lion-Heart common room, it exploded with cheers and yells again. There were mountains of cakes and flagons of pumpkin juice and Butterbeer on every surface; Leah Jones had let off some Dr Filibuster's Fabulous, No-Heat, Wet-Start Fireworks, so that the air was thick with stars and sparks; and Dena Wright, who was very good at drawing, had put up some impressive new banners, most of which depicted me zooming around the Horntail's head on my Firecracker, though a couple showed Georgia with her head on fire.

I helped myself to food; I had almost forgotten what it was like to feel properly hungry, and I sat down with Chris, Sian and Chrissie. I couldn't believe how happy I felt; I had Chrissie back on my side, I'd got through the first task, and I wouldn't have to face the second one for three months.

"Blimey, this is heavy," said Leah Jones, picking up the golden egg, which I had left on a table, and was weighing it in her hands. "Open it, Kiara, go on! Let's just see what's inside it!"

"She's supposed to work out the clue on her own," Sian said swiftly. "It's in the Tournament rules ..."

"I was supposed to work out how to get past the dragon on my own, too," I muttered, so only Chris and Sian could hear me. Chris stifled a chuckle as Sian grinned guiltily.

"Yeah, go on, Kiara, open it!" several people echoed.

Leah passed me the egg, and I dug my fingernails into the groove that ran all the way around it, and prized it open.

It was hollow and completely empty - but the moment I opened it, the most horrible noise - a loud and screechy wailing - filled the room. The nearest thing to it I had ever heard was the ghost orchestra at Nearly Headless Nicola's Deathday Party, who had all been playing the musical saw.

"Shut it!" Tanya bellowed, her hands over her ears.

"What was that?" said Zara Finn, staring at the egg as I slammed it shut again. "Sounded like a banshee ... maybe you've got to get past one of those next, Kiara!"

"It was someone being tortured!" said Nikita, who had gone very white, and spilled sausage rolls over the floor. "You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!"

"Don't be thick, Nikita, that's illegal," said Geri. "They wouldn't use the Cruciatus Curse on the Champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Perdy singing ... maybe you've got to attack her while she's in the shower, Kiara."

"Want a jam tart, Sian?" said Tanya.

Sian looked doubtfully at the plate she was offering her. Tanya grinned.

"It's all right," she said. "I haven't done anything to harm them. It's the chocolate fingers you've got to watch - "

Nikita, who had just bitten into a chocolate finger, choked and spat it out.

Tanya laughed. "Just my little joke, Nikita."

Sian took a jam tart.

Then she said, "Did you get all this from the kitchens, Tanya?"

"Yep," Tanya said, grinning at her. She put on a high-pitched squeak and imitated a house-elf. " "Anything we can get you, miss, anything at all!" They're dead helpful ... get me a roast ham if I said I was peckish."

"How do you get in there?" Sian said, in an innocently casual sort of voice.

"Easy," said Tanya, "concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the mango, and it giggles, and - " She stopped, and looked suspiciously at Sian. "Why?"

"No reason," said Sian quickly.

"Going to try and lead the house-elves out on strike now, are you?" said Geri. "Going to give up all the leaflet stuff and try and stir them up into rebellion?"

Several people chortled. Sian didn't answer.

"Don't you go upsetting them and telling them they've got to take clothes and salaries!" said Tanya warningly. "You'll put them off their cooking.

Just then, Nikita caused a slight diversion by sprouting more fingers all over her hands. Several people around her screamed.

"Oh - sorry, Nikita!" Tanya shouted over all the screams. "I forgot - it _was_ the chocolate fingers we hexed - "

Within seconds, however, the other fingers fell off Nikita's hands and fell to the floor, smashing into crumbs. People screamed again, but after the shock of Nikita's extra fingers falling off and seeing Nikita with her original fingers and two thumbs still intact, laughter started to emerge, although most of it was relieved laughter rather than humorous.

"Further Funny Fingers!" Tanya shouted to the rather excitable crowd. "Geri and I invented them - seven Sickles each, bargain!"

It was nearly one in the morning when I finally went up to the dormitory with Sian, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel and Merida. Before I pulled the curtains of my four-poster shut, I set my tiny model of the Hungarian Horntail on the table next to my bed, where it yawned, curled up and closed its eyes. Really, I thought, as I pulled the hangings on my four-poster closed, Mina had a point ... they were all right, really, dragons.

0000

The start of December brought wind and sleet to Dragon Mort that year. Draughty though the castle always was in winter, I was glad of its fires and thick walls every time I passed the Uagadou submarine on the river, which was pitching in the high winds, silver streaks of light emanating off it when it moved against these winds, more resolute in the dark skies. I thought the Beauxbatons caravan was likely to have been pretty chilly, too. Mina, I noticed, had kept Monsieur Legrand's horses well provided with their preferred drink of single-malt whisky; the fumes wafting from their trough in the corner of their paddock were enough to make my Care of Magical Creatures class light-headed. It was unhelpful, because we were still tending to the horrid Crabs, and we needed our wits about us.

"I'm not sure whether they hibernate or not," Mina told us in the windy pumpkin patch, our first lesson in December. "thought we'd jus' try an' see if they fancied a kip ... we'll jus' settle 'em down in these boxes ..."

There were only ten Crabs left now; apparently their desire to kill each other had not been exercised out of them. Each of them was approaching six feet in length. Their thick black armour, their powerful, scuttling legs and big pound of thrashing muscle, which could also shoot fire, their claws and their horns, combined to make the Crabs the most repulsive things I have ever seen in my entire life so far. We all looked dispiritedly at the enormous boxes Mina had brought out, all lined up with pillows and fluffy blankets.

"We'll jus' lead 'em in here," Mina said, "an' put the lids on, and we'll see what happens."

But the Crabs, it transpired, did _not_ hibernate, and did not appreciate being forced into pillow-lined boxes and nailed in. Mina was yelling "Don' panic, now, don' panic!", while the Crabs rampaged around the pumpkin patch, now strewn with the smouldering and crushed wreckage of the boxes. Most of us - Malty, Crate, Gabber and Rae-Bradley in the lead - had fled into Mina's cabin through the backdoor and barricaded themselves in; Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I, however, were among those who remained outside, trying to help Mina. Together we managed to restrain and tie up nine of the Crabs, though at the cost of numerous burns and cuts; finally, only one Crab was left.

"Don' frighten him, now!" Mina shouted, as Chris, Chrissie and I used our wands to shoot jets of fiery sparks at the Crab, which was advancing menacingly on us, its giant pound of muscle raised, quivering, over its back. "Jus' try an' slip the rope round his muscle, so he won' hurt any o' the others!"

"Yeah, we wouldn't want that!" Chrissie shouted angrily, as she, Chris and I backed into the wall of Mina's cabin, still holding the Crab off with our sparks.

"Well, well, well ... this _does_ look like fun!"

Peter Meter was leaning on Mina's garden fence, looking in at the mayhem. He was wearing a thick burgundy cloak with a furry blood-red collar that day, and his crocodile-skin satchel was over his shoulder.

Mina launched herself forward on top of the Crab that was cornering Chris, Chrissie and I and flattened it; a blast of fire shot out of its end at the exact same time that its ends crashed down to the ground, withering the pumpkin plants nearby, as well as causing a crater in the earth.

"Who're you?" Mina asked Peter Meter, as she slipped a loop of rope around the Crab's muscle and tightened it.

"Peter Meter, _Daily Squabbler_ reporter," Peter replied, beaming at her. His gold teeth glinted.

"Thought Crighton said you weren' allowed inside the school anymore?" said Mina, frowning slightly, as she got off the slightly squashed Crab and started tugging it over to its fellows.

Peter acted as though he hadn't heard what Mina had said.

"What are these fascinating creatures called?" he asked, beaming still more widely.

"Shudder-Ended Crabs," grunted Mina.

"Really?" said Peter, apparently full of lively interest. "I've never heard of them before ... where do they come from?"

I saw a dull red flush creeping up on Mina's cheeks, and my heart sank. Where _had_ Mina got the Crabs from?

Sian, who seemed to be thinking along the same lines, said quickly, "They're very interesting, aren't they? Aren't they, Kiara?"

"What? Oh, yeah ... ouch ... interesting," I said, as she stepped on my foot.

"Ah, you're here, Kiara!" said Peter Meter, as he looked around. "So, you like Care of Magical Creatures, do you? One of your favourite lessons?"

"Yes," I said stoutly. Mina beamed at me.

"Lovely," said Peter. "Really lovely. Been teaching long?" he added to Mina.

I noticed his eyes travel over Dena (who had a nasty cut across one cheek), Larry (whose robes were badly singed), Zara (who was nursing several slightly-crushed fingers), and then to the cabin windows, where most of my class stood, their noses pressed against the glass, waiting to see if the coast was clear.

"This is on'y me second year," said Mina.

"Lovely ... I don't suppose you'd like to give an interview, would you? Share some of your experience of magical creatures? The Squabbler does a zoological column every Wednesday, as I'm sure you know. We could feature these - er - Sharper-Ended Crooks."

"Shudder-Ended Crabs," Mina said eagerly. "Er - yeah, why not?"

I had a very bad feeling about that interview (which I had every right to be), but there was no way of communicating it to Mina without Peter Meter seeing, so I had to stand and watch in silence as Peter Meter and Mina made arrangements to meet in the Flying Owls for a good long interview later that week. Then the bell rang up at the castle, signalling the end of the lesson.

"Well, goodbye, Kiara!" Peter Meter called merrily to me, as I set off with Chris, Sian and Chrissie. "Until Friday night, then, Mina?"

"He'll twist everything she says," I said under my breath.

"Just as long as she didn't import those Crabs illegally or anything," said Sian desperately. We looked at each other - it was exactly the sort of thing Mina might do.

"Mina's been in loads of trouble before, and Ma's never sacked her," said Chris consolingly. "Worst that can happen is Mina'll have to get rid of the Crabs. Sorry ... did I say worst? I mean best."

Sian, Chrissie and I laughed, and, feeling slightly more cheerful, the four of us set off to lunch.

I thoroughly enjoyed double Divination that afternoon; we were continuing with star charts and predictions, but seeing that Chrissie and I were friends once more, the whole thing seemed very funny again. Professor Crystals, who had been so pleased with the pair of us when we had been predicting our own horrible deaths, quickly became irritated as we sniggered through his explanation of the various ways in which Pluto could disrupt everyday life.

"I would _think_ ," he said in a mystical whisper that did not conceal his obvious annoyance, "that _some_ of us - " he stared very meaningfully at me - "might be a little less _frivolous_ had they seen what I have seen during my crystal-gazing last night. As I sat here, absorbed in my knitting, the urge to consult the orb overpowered me. I arose, settled myself before it, and gazed into its crystalline depths ... and what do you think I saw gazing back at me?"

"An ugly old bat in outsize specs?" Chrissie muttered under her breath.

I fought to keep my face straight.

" _Death_ , my dears."

Patrick and Larry both put their hands over their mouths, looking horrified.

"Yes,! said Professor Crystals, nodding impressively, "it comes ever closer; it circles overhead like a vulture, ever lower ... ever lower over this castle ..."

He then stared very pointedly at me. All I did was yawn very widely and obviously.

"It'd be a bit more impressive if he hadn't done it about eighty times before," I said, as we finally regained the fresh air of the staircase beneath Professor Crystals' room. "But if I'd dropped dead every time he's told me I'm going to die, I'd be a medical miracle."

"You'd be a sort of extra-concentrated ghost," said Chrissie, chortling, as we passed the Bloody Baroness going in the opposite direction, her wide eyes staring sinisterly. "At least we didn't get any homework. I'm not bothered if Chris got any, but I hope Sian got loads in Ancient Runes; I love not working when she is ..."

We saw Chris at dinner, but to our surprise, Sian wasn't there with him. When we asked Chris where she was, he said he didn't know. We couldn't find her at the library either, though we did spot Kopa's head look up when he saw us, but look back down again in disappointment when he saw that Sian wasn't with us. Kovu Outsider was sat next to him. Chrissie hovered behind the bookshelves for a while, watching Outsider, debating in whispers with Chris and I whether she should ask for an autograph - but then Chrissie realised that six or seven girls were lurking in the next row of books, debating exactly the same thing, and she lost her enthusiasm for the idea.

"Wonder where she's got to?" Chris said, as he, Chrissie and I went back to Lion-Heart Tower.

"Dunno ..." I said, "Balderdash."

But the Fat Lord had barley begun to swing forwards, when the sound of racing feet behind us announced Sian's arrival.

"Kiara!" she panted, skidding to a halt beside me (the Fat Lord stard down at her, eyebrows raised). "Kiara, you've got to come - you've _got_ to come, the most amazing thing's happened - please - "

She seized my arm and started to try and drag me back along the corridor.

"What's the matter?" I said.

"I'll show you when we get there - oh, come on, quick - "

I looked around at Chris and Chrissie; they both looked back at me, intrigued.

"OK," I said, starting off back down the corridor with Sian, Chris and Chrissie hurrying to keep up.

"Oh, don't mind me!" the Fat Lord called irritably after us. "Don't apologise for bothering me! I'll just hang here, wide open, until you get back, shall I?"

"Yeah, thanks," Chrissie shouted over her shoulder.

"Sian, where are we going?" I asked, after she had led us down through six floors, and started down the marble staircase into the Entrance Hall.

"You'll see, you'll see in a minute!" Sian said excitedly.

She turned left at the bottom of the staircase, and hurried towards the door through which Georgia Diggs had gone through the night after the Goblet of Fire had regurgitated my name and hers. I had never been down there before this moment. Chris, Chrissie and I followed Sian down a flight of stone steps, but instead of ending up in a gloomy underground passage like the one that led to Triphorm's dungeon, we found ourselves in a broad, stone corridor, brightly lit with torches, and decorated with cheerful paintings that were mainly of food.

"Oh, hang on ..." I said slowly, halfway down the corridor. "Wait a minute, Sian ..."

"What?" She turned around to look at me, anticipation all over her face.

"I know what this is about," I said.

I nudged Chris and Chrissie, and pointed to the painting just behind Sian. It showed a gigantic gold fruit-bowl.

Chris and Chrissie both cottoned on then, as Chris said, "Sian! You're trying to rope us into that hame stuff again!"

"No, no, I'm not!" she said hastily. "And it's not _hame_ , Rickers - "

"Changed the name, have you?" said Chrissie, frowning at her. "What are we now, then, Liberty for House-Elves? I'm not barging into that kitchen and trying to make them stop working, I'm not doing it - "

"I'm not asking you to!" Sian said impatiently. "I came down here just now, to talk to them all, and I found - oh, come _on_ , Kiara, I want to show you!"

She seized my arm and pulled me in front of the giant fruit-bowl, stretched out her forefinger and tickled the huge yellow mango. It began to squirm, chuckling, and suddenly turned into a large yellow door handle. Sian seized it, pulled the door open, and pushed me hard in the back, forcing me inside.

I had one brief glimpse of an enormous, high-ceilinged room, large as the Great Hall above it, with mounds of glittering brass pots and pans heaped around the stone walls, and a great brick fireplace at the other end, when something small hurtled towards me from the middle of the room, squealing, "Kiara Pride-Lander, miss! _Kiara Pride-Lander!_ "

The next thing I knew, all the wind had been knocked out of me, as the squealing elf hit me hard in the midriff, hugging me so tightly that I thought my hips were going to break.

"D-Dokey?" I gasped.

"It is Dokey, miss, it is!" squealed the voice from somewhere around my navel. "Dokey has been hoping and hoping to see Kiara Pride-Lander, miss, and Kiara Pride-Lander has come to see her, miss!"

Dokey let go and stepped back a few paces, beaming up at me, her enormous green, tennis-ball-shaped eyes beaming with tears of happiness. She looked almost exactly like I remembered her; the pencil-shaped nose, the bat-like ears, the long fingers and feet - all except the clothes, which were very different.

When Dokey had worked for the Maltys, she had always wore the same filthy old tea-towels. When I saw her then, however, she was wearing the strangest assortment of garments I had ever seen; she had made an even worse job of dressing herself than the wizards at the Quidditch Friendly. If I remember correctly, she was wearing a tea-cosy for a hat, on which she had pinned a number of bright badges; a waistcoat with bright blue polka-dots over her bare chest, a pair of what looked like children's football shorts and odd socks. One of them, I saw, was the navy one I had removed from my own foot and tricked Mrs Malty into giving Dokey, thereby setting Dokey free. The other was covered in brown and purple stripes.

"Dokey, what are you doing here?" I said in amazement.

"Dokey has come to work at Dragon Mort, miss," Dokey squealed excitedly. "Professor Crighton gave Dokey and Blinky jobs, miss!"

"Blinky?" I said. "He's here, too?"

"Yes, miss, yes!" said Dokey, and she seized my hand, and pulled me off into the kitchen between the four long wooden tables that stood there. Each of those tables, I noticed as I passed them, was positioned exactly beneath the four house tables above in the Great Hall. At that moment, they were clear of food, dinner having finished, but I supposed that an hour ago they had been laden with dishes that had been sent up through the ceiling to their counterparts above.

At least a hundred little elves were standing around the kitchen, beaming, bowing and curtseying as Dokey led me past them. They all wore the same uniform; a tea-towel stamped with the Dragon Mort crest, and tied as Blinky's had been, like a toga.

Dokey stopped in front of the brick fireplace and nodded.

"Blinky, miss!" she said.

Blinky was sitting on a stool by the fire. Unlike Dokey, who had obviously not foraged for clothes. He was wearing neat little children's trousers and shirt with a matching black hat, which had holes in it for his large ears. However, while every one of Dokey's strange collection of garments was so clean and well cared for that it looked brand new, Blinky was plainly not taking care of his clothes at all. There were soup stains all down his shirt and there was a burn in one of his trouser legs.

"Hello, Blinky," I said.

Blinky's lip quivered. Then he burst into tears, which spilled out of his great brown eyes and splashed down his front, just as they had done at the Quidditch Friendly.

"Oh, dear," said Sian. She, Chris and Chrissie had followed Dokey and I to the end of the kitchen. "Blinky, don't cry, please don't ..."

But Blinky cried harder than ever. Dokey, on the other hand, beamed up at me.

"Would Kiara Pride-Lander like a cup of tea?" she squeaked loudly, over Blinky's sobs.

"Er - yeah, OK," I said.

Instantly, about six house-elves came trotting up behind me, bearing a large silver tray laden with teapot, cups for Chris, Sian, Chrissie and myself, a milk jug and a large plate of biscuits.

"Good service!" Chris said, in an impressed voice, as Chrissie nodded in agreement. Sian frowned at them, but the elves all looked delighted; they bowed very low and retreated.

"How long have you been here, Dokey?" I asked, as Dokey handed round the tea.

"Only a week, Kiara Pride-Lander, miss!" said Dokey happily. "Dokey came to see Professor Crighton, miss. You see, miss, it is very difficult for a house-elf who has been dismissed to get a new position, miss, very difficult indeed - "

At this, Blinky howled even harder, his squashed tomato of a nose dribbling all down his front, though he made no effort to stem the flow.

"Dokey has travelled the country for two whole years, miss, trying to find work!" Dokey squeaked. "But Dokey hasn't found work, miss, because Dokey wants paying now!"

The house-elves all around the kitchen, who had been listening and watching with interest, now split into two groups: some looked away at those words, as though Dokey had said something rude and embarrassing, whereas others stayed where they were, and were genuinely interested in our conversation.

Sian seemed to agree with the elves who stayed behind, for she said, "Good for you, Dokey!"

"Thank you, miss!" said Dokey, grinning toothily at her. Dokey then looked at Sian carefully, before she gasped delightedly, and squealed, "You're Professor Crighton's eldest daughter, aren't you, miss?"

Sian giggled and said, "Indeed I am, Dokey."

"Dokey has heard a great deal about you from Professor Crighton, miss!" Dokey said. "Professor Crighton always speaks highly of you, miss!"

"I know she does, Dokey," Sian said, with a sad smile. "So, what about you finding employment, Dokey? How hard has it been for you, exactly?"

"Well, miss, some wizards have house-elves who get paid, and don't wish for another; but many wizards, miss, do not want a house-elf who wants paying, miss. "That's not the part of a good house-elf," they says, and they slammed the door in Dokey's face! Dokey likes work, but she wants to wear clothes and she wants to be paid, Kiara Pride-Lander ... Dokey likes being free!"

Most of the Dragon Mort house-elves started to edge away from Dokey, as though she was carrying something contagious. Blinky, however, remained where he was, though there was a definite increase in the volume of his crying.

"And then, Kiara Pride-Lander, Dokey goes to visit Blinky and finds out Blinky has been freed, too, miss!" said Dokey delightedly.

At this, Blinky flung himself forwards off his stool, and lay, face down, on the flagged stone floor, beating his tiny fists upon it and positively screaming with misery. Sian hastily dropped to her knees beside him, but nothing she said made the slightest difference.

Dokey continued with her story, shouting shrilly over Blinky's screeches. "And then Dokey has the idea, Kiara Pride-Lander, miss! "Why doesn't Dokey and Blinky find work together?" Dokey says. "Where is there enough work for two house-elves?" says Blinky. And Dokey thinks, and it comes to her, miss! _Dragon Mort!_ So Dokey and Blinky came to see Professor Crighton, miss, and Professor Crighton took us on!"

Dokey beamed very brightly, and happy tears welled in her eyes again.

"And Professor Crighton says she will pay Dokey, miss, if Dokey wants paying! And so Dokey is a free elf, miss, and Dokey gets a Galleon a week and one day off a month!"

"That's not very much!" Sian shouted indignantly from the floor, over Blinky's continued screaming and fist-beating.

"Professor Crighton offered Dokey ten Galleons a week, and weekends off," sad Dokey, suddenly giving a little shiver, as though the prospect of so much leisure and riches was frightening, "but Dokey beat her down, miss ... Dokey likes her freedom, miss, but she isn't wanting too much, miss, she likes work better."

"And how much is Professor Crighton paying _you_ , Blinky?"Sian asked kindly.

If she had thought that this would have cheered Blinky up, she was wildly mistaken. Blinky did stop crying, but when he sat up he was glaring at Sian through his massive brown eyes, his whole face sopping wet and suddenly furious.

"Blinky is a disgraced elf, but Blinky is not yet getting paid!" he squeaked. "Blinky is not sunk so low as that! Blinky is properly ashamed of being freed!"

"Ashamed?" said Sian blankly. "But - Blinky, come on! It's Mrs Clutch who should be ashamed, not you! You didn't do anything wrong, she was really horrible to you - "

But at these words, Blinky clapped his hands over the holes in his hat, flattening his ears so that he couldn't hear a word, and screeched, "You is not insulting my mistress, miss! You is not insulting Mrs Clutch! Mrs Clutch is a good witch, miss! Mrs Clutch is right to sack bad Blinky!"

"Blinky is having trouble adjusting, Kiara Pride-Lander," said Dokey confidentially. "Blinky forgets he is not bound to Mrs Clutch anymore; he is allowed to speak his mind now, but he won't do it."

"Can't house-elves speak their minds about their masters, then?" I asked.

"Oh, no, miss, no," said Dokey, looking suddenly serious. "'Tis part of the house-elf's enslavement, miss. We keeps their secrets and our silence, miss, we upholds the family's honour, and we never speaks ill of them - though Professor Crighton told Dokey she does not insist upon this. Professor Crighton said we is free to - to - "

Dokey looked suddenly nervous, and beckoned me closely. I bent forwards.

Dokey whispered, "She said we is free to call her a - a barmy old codger if we likes, miss!"

Dokey gave a frightened sort of giggle.

"But Dokey is not wanting to, Kiara Pride-Lander," she said, talking normally again, and shaking her head so that her ears flapped. "Dokey likes Professor Crighton very much, miss, and is proud to keep her secrets for her."

"But you can say what you like about the Maltys now?" I asked her, grinning.

A slightly fearful look came into Dokey's immense eyes.

"Dokey - Dokey could," she said doubtfully. She squared her small shoulders. "Dokey could tell Kiara Pride-Lander that her old masters were - were - _bad Dark wizards_!"

Dokey stood for a moment, quivering all over, horror-struck by her own daring - then she reached over to the nearest table, and began banging her head on it, very hard, squealing, _"Bad Dokey! Bad Dokey!"_

I seized Dokey by the back of her waistcoat and pulled her away from the table.

"Thank you, Kiara Pride-Lander, thank you," said Dokey breathlessly, rubbing her head.

"You just need a bit of practice," I said.

"Practice!" squealed Blinky furiously. "You is ought to be ashamed of yourself, Dokey, talking that way about your masters!"

"They isn't my masters anymore, Blinky!" said Dokey defiantly. "Dokey doesn't care what they think any more!"

"Oh, you is a bad elf, Dokey!" moaned Blinky, tears leaking down his face once more. "My poor Mrs Clutch, what is she doing without Blinky? She is needing me, she is needing my help! I is looking after the Clutches all my life, and my mother is doing it before me, and my grandmother is doing it before her ... oh, what is they saying if they knew Blinky was freed? Oh, the shame, the shame!" He buried his face in his trousers again and bawled.

Sian put a gentle hand on Blinky's back and said, quite firmly, "Blinky, I'm quite sure Mrs Clutch is getting along perfectly well without you. We've seen her, you know - "

"You is seeing my mistress?" said Blinky breathlessly, raising his tear-stained face out of his trousers once more, and goggling st Sian. "You is seeing her here at Dragon Mort?"

"Yes," said Sian. "She and Miss Baxter are judges in the Triwizard Tournament."

"Miss Baxter comes, too?" squeaked Blinky, and to my great surprise (and Chris, Sian and Chrissie's, too, by the looks on their faces), he looked angry again. "Miss Baxter is a bad witch! A very bad witch! My mistress isn't liking her, oh no, not at all!"

"Baxter - bad?" I said.

"Oh, yes," Blinky said, nodding his head furiously. "My mistress is telling Blinky some things! But Blinky is not saying ... Blinky - Blinky keeps his mistress' secrets ..."

He dissolved yet again in tears; we heard him sobbing into his trousers, "Poor mistress, poor mistress, no Blinky to help her no more!"

We couldn't get another sensible word out of Blinky after that. We left him to his crying and finished our tea, while Dokey chatted happily about her life as a free elf, and her plans for her wages.

"Dokey is going to buy a jumper next, Kiara Pride-Lander!" she said happily, pointing at her bare chest.

"Tell you what I'll do, Dokey," said Sian, who had obviously taken a great liking to the elves, "I knit Christmas jumpers for my family every year, so I'll knit an extra one for you, with a variety of colours. Would you like that?"

Dokey was delighted.

"I'll have to shrink it down for you," Sian told her, "but it'll go well with your tea-cosy."

As we prepared to take our leave, many of the surrounding elves pressed in upon us, offering snacks for us to take upstairs. Sian refused, with a pained look at the way the elves kept bowing and curtseying, but Chris, Chrissie and I loaded our pockets with cream cakes and pies.

"Thanks a lot!" I said to the elves, who had all clustered around the door to say goodnight. "See you, Dokey!"

"Kiara Pride-Lander ... can Dokey come and see you sometimes, miss?" Dokey asked tentatively.

"'Course you can," I said, and Dokey beamed.

"You know what?" Chrissie said, once she, Chris, Sian and I had left the kitchens behind, and we were climbing the steps into the Entrance Hall again. "All these years I've been really impressed with Tanya and Geri nicking food from the kitchens - well, it's not exactly difficult, is it? They can't wait to give it away!"

"I think this is the best thing that could have happened to those elves, you know," said Sian, leading the way back up the marble staircase. "Dokey coming to work here, I mean. The other elves will see how happy she is, with holidays and wages, and slowly it'll dawn on them that they want that, too!"

"Let's hope they don't look too closely at Blinky," I said.

"Oh, he'll cheer up," said Sian, though she sounded a bit doubtful. "Once the shock's worn off, and he's got used to Dragon Mort, he'll see how much better off he is without that Clutch woman."

"He seems to love her," said Chris thickly (he had just started on a cream cake).

"Doesn't think much of Baxter, though, does he?" I said. "Wonder what Clutch says about her at home?"

"Probably says she's not a very good Head of Department," said Sian, "and let's face it ... she's got a point, hasn't she?"

"I'd still rather work for her than for old Clutch," said Chrissie. "At least Baxter's got a sense of humour."

"Don't let Perdy hear you say that," Sian said, smiling slightly.

"Yeah, well, Perdy wouldn't want to work for anyone with a sense of humour, would she?" said Chris, as he started eating a chocolate éclair. "Perdy wouldn't recognise a joke if it danced naked in front of her wearing Dokey's tea-cosy."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

 **The Unexpected Task**

 **KIARA**

"Pride-Lander! Dawson! _Will you pay attention?_ "

Professor Darbus' voice cracked like a whip through the Transfiguration class on Thursday, and Chrissie and I both jumped and looked up.

It was the end of the lesson; we had finished our work; the guinea-fowl we had been changing into guinea-pigs had been shut away in a large cage on Professor Darbus' desk (Nikita's guinea-pig still had feathers); we had copied down our homework from the blackboard ("Describe, with examples, the ways in which Transforming Spells must be adapted when performing Cross-Species Switches"). The bell was due to ring at any moment, and Chrissie and I, who had been having a sword fight with a couple of Tanya and Geri's fake quills at the back of the class, looked up, Chrissie now holding a tin parrot, and I, a rubber haddock.

"Now Pride-Lander and Dawson have been kind enough to act their age," said Professor Darbus, with an angry look at the pair of us as the head of my haddock dropped and fell silently to the floor - Chrissie's parrot's beak had severed it moments before - "I have something to say to you all.

"The Yule Ball is approaching - a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialise with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth-years and above - with the exception of the Dawsons, for seeing as they are children of the Headmistress of Dragon Mort, they have every right to attend - but you may invite a younger student if you wish - "

Larry Brown let out a loud chuckle. Perry Party nudged him hard in the ribs, his face working furiously, as he, too, fought not to chuckle. They both looked around at me. Professor Darbus ignored them, which I thought was distinctly unfair, as she had just told off me and Chrissie.

"Dress robes will be worn," Professor Darbus continued, "and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight, in the Great Hall. Now then - "

Professor Darbus stared deliberately around at all of us.

"The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to - er - let our hair down," she said in a disapproving voice.

Larry chuckled harder than ever, with his hand pressed hard against his mouth to stifle the sound. I saw what was funny that time: Professor Darbus, with her hair in a tight bun, looked as though she had never let her hair down in any sense.

"But that does NOT mean," Professor Darbus went on, "that we will be relaxing the standards of behaviour we expect from Dragon Mort students. I will be most seriously disappointed if a Lion-Heart student embarrasses the school in any way."

The bell rang, and there was the usual scuffle of activity as we all packed our bags and swung them onto our shoulders.

Professor Darbus called above the noise, "Pride-Lander - a word, if you please."

I assumed that it had something to do with the headless rubber haddock, so I proceeded gloomily to the teacher's desk.

Professor Darbus waited until the rest of my class had gone, and then said, "Pride-Lander, the Champions and their partners - "

"What partners?" I said.

Professor Darbus looked suspiciously at me, as though she thought I was trying to be funny.

"Your partners for the Yule Ball, Pride-Lander," she said coldly. "Your _dance partners_."

I felt my insides squirm with nervous excitement. "Dance partners?"

I felt myself blush, as I said quickly, before I could stop myself, "With boys?" (I should point out here that, during my childhood, my grandmothers had taught me how to dance. It was OK dancing with them, but with an actual boy, however, was another matter at the time. Now, though, I'm cool with it.)

"Well, of course with boys, Pride-Lander!" said Professor Darbus incredulously, looking at me as though she thought I had gone mad. "You and your partner - the boy in question - open the dance. It's traditional for the Champions to do so."

I had a sudden mental image of myself in a long, frilly dress, dancing with a tall young man in a top hat and tails, and then I tripped and fell to the floor in a heap, as everyone laughed at me.

I blushed even harder as I asked her, "Are you sure - ?"

"It's traditional," said Professor Darbus firmly. "You are a Dragon Mort Champion, and you will do what is expected of you as a representative of the school. So make sure you get yourself a partner, Pride-Lander."

"But - "

"You heard me, Pride-Lander," said Professor Darbus, in a very final sort of way.

0000

A week before this, I would have said finding a partner for a dance would be a cinch compared to taking on a Hungarian Horntail. But seeing as I had done the latter, and was facing the prospect of being asked by a guy to the ball, I thought I'd rather have another round with the Horntail (although, I have to admit, I am glad that I didn't have to ask anyone - forgive me for being old-fashioned).

During my time at Dragon Mort, there had never been a more popular time for people to stay at the school over the Christmas holidays than that one. I knew I could have gone back to Wales, but seeing as I was a school Champion, I knew I had to stay; but I had always been very much in the minority before then. That year, however, everyone in the fourth year and above (along with the youngest Dawsons) were staying, and we were all obsessed with the coming ball - well, we girls were, anyway. I think it dawned on the boys then just how many of us girls were in the castle, just like it occurred to we girls how many boys there were. Everywhere I looked, boys were eyeing girls with great interest, and vice-versa. Once or twice, I could have sworn that Chris was hoping for me to meet his eye, but every time I looked at him, he seemed to be deeply involved with his work.

There was only one question on my mind, though: who did I want to go with me?

Of course, I already knew who I'd _like_ to have ask me, but somehow, I didn't think he would ... Khan. He was a year older than me; he was very handsome; he was a very good Quidditch player, and he was also very popular.

Chrissie seemed to know what was going on inside my head.

"Listen, you're not going to have any trouble. You're a Champion. You've just beaten a Hungarian Horntail. I bet they'll be queuing up to go with you."

In tribute to our recently repaired friendship, Chrissie had kept the bitterness in her voice to a bare minimum. Moreover, to my amazement, she was right.

A curly-haired third-year Badger-Stripes boy to whom I had never spoken to in my life, asked me to go to the ball with him the very next day. I was so taken aback I said "no" before I'd even stopped to consider the matter. The boy walked off looking rather hurt, and I had to endure Chrissie's, Dena's and Zara's taunts about him all through history of Magic. The following day, two more boys asked me, a second-year and (to my horror) a fifth-year who looked as though he would've knocked me out if I'd refused.

"He was quite good-looking," said Chrissie fairly, after she'd stopped laughing.

"I know he was taller than me," I said, still unnerved, "but did you see the scowl on his face? I don't want to dance with someone who doesn't look happy to be there with me!"

I saw Chris look really annoyed whenever someone asked me to the ball, but then looked happy (and slightly relieved, I thought) when I said no. This puzzled me at the time, but I now understand that he wanted to go to the ball with me, but was too shy to ask me ... until some time later, which we'll get to.

Anyhoo, Sian's warnings about Outsider kept coming back to me. "They only like him because he's famous!" I doubted if any of the boys who had asked me to be their partner so far would have wanted me to go to the ball with me if I hadn't been school Champion. I then wondered if this would bother me if Khan asked me.

On the whole, I had to admit that even with the daunting prospect of the ball before me, life had definitely improved since I had got through the first task. I wasn't attracting generally as much unpleasantness in the corridors, which I suspected had a lot to do with Georgia - I had an idea that Georgia might have told the Badger-Stripes to leave me alone, in gratitude for my tip-off about the dragons. There seemed to be fewer _Support GEORGIA DIGGS_ badges around, too. Dani Malty, of course, was still quoting Peter Meter's article at me at every possible opportunity, but she was getting fewer and fewer laughs out of it - and just to heighten my feeling of well-being, no story about Mina had appeared in the _Daily Squabbler_.

"He didn' seem very int'rested in magical creatures, ter tell yeh the truth," Mina said, when Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I asked her how the interview with Peter Meter had gone during the last Care of Magical Creatures lesson of term. To our very great relief, Mina had given up on direct contact with the Crabs, and we were merely sheltering behind her cabin that day, sitting at a trestle table and preparing a fresh selection of food with which to tempt the Crabs.

"He jus' wanted me ter talk about you, Kiara," Mina continued in a low voice. "Well, I told him we'd been friends since I firs' met yeh. "Never had to tell her off in four years?" he said. "Never played you up in lessons, has she?" I told him no, an' he didn' seem at all. Yeh'd think he wanted me ter say yeh were horrible, Kiara."

"'Course he did," I said, throwing lumps of dragon liver into a large metal bowl and picking up my knife to cut some more. "He can't keep writing about what a tragic little hero I am. It'll get boring."

"He wants a new angle, Mina," said Chris wisely, as he shelled salamander eggs. "You were supposed to say Kiara's a mad delinquent!"

"But she's not!" said Mina, looking genuinely shocked.

"He should've interviewed Triphorm," I said grimly. "She'd give him the goods on me any day. _Pride-Lander has been crossing lines ever since she first arrived at this school ..._ "

"Said that, did she?" said Mina, while Chris, Sian and Chrissie laughed. "Well, yeh might've bent a few rules, Kiara, but yeh all righ' really, aren' you?"

"Cheers, Mina," I said, grinning.

"You coming to this ball thing on Christmas Day, Mina?" said Chrissie.

"Though' I might look in on it, yeah," said Mina gruffly. "Should be a good do, I reckon. You'll be openin' the dancin', won' yeh, Kiara? Do yeh know who's takin' yeh, Kiara?"

"No one, yet," I said, feeling myself go red again. Mina didn't pursue the subject.

The last week of term became increasing boisterous as it progressed. Rumours about the Yule Ball were flying everywhere, though I didn't believe half of them - for instance, that Crighton had bought eight hundred barrels of mulled mead from Sir Smoothster. It seemed to be fact, however, that she had booked the Jinxsters. Exactly who or what the Jinxsters were I didn't know, never having had access to a wizard's wireless (seeing as Grandmother Sarafina is a Muggle, Grandmother Sarabi didn't bother), but I deduced from the wild excitement of those who had grown up listening to the WWN (Wizarding Wireless Network) that they were a very famous musical group (I should also mention here that the leader of the band is also a cousin of the Dawsons from America).

Some of the teachers, like little Professor Winds, gave up trying to teach us when our minds were so clearly elsewhere; she allowed us to play games in her lesson on Wednesday, and spent most of it talking to me about the perfect Summoning Charm I had used during the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. Other teachers, however, were not so generous. Nothing would ever deflect Professor Yawn, for example, from ploughing on through her notes on faun rebellions - Yawn hadn't let his own death stand in the way of continuing to teach, we supposed a small thing like Christmas wasn't going to put him off. It was amazing how he could make even bloody and vicious faun riots sound as boring as Perdy's Floo powder report. Professors Darbus and Grumpy kept us working until the very last second of our classes, too, and Triphorm, of course, would no sooner let us play games in class than adopt me. Staring nastily around at us, she informed us that she would be testing us on poison antidotes during the last lesson of term.

"Evil, she is," Chrissie said that night in the Lion-Heart common room. "Springing a test on us on the last day. Ruining the last bit of term with a whole load of revision."

"Mmm ... you're not exactly straining yourself, though, are you?" said Sian, looking at her over the top of her Potions notes. Chrissie was building a card castle out of her Exploding Snap pack - a much more interesting pastime than with the Muggle cards, because of the chance that the whole thing would blow up at any second.

"It's Christmas, Sian," I said lazily; I was re-reading _Flying With the Cannons_ for the tenth time in an armchair near the fire.

Sian looked severely over at me, too. "I'd have thought you'd be doing something constructive, Kiara, even if you don't want to learn your antidotes!"

"Like what?" I said, as I watched Joey Jenkins - who is in no way a relation of Bernard Jenkins - of the Cannons belt a Bludger towards a Ballycastle Bats Chaser.

"That egg!" Sian hissed.

"Come on, Sian, I've got 'til February the twenty-fifth," I said.

I had put the golden egg upstairs in my trunk, and hadn't opened it since the celebration party after the first task. There was still two and half months to go until I needed to know what all the screechy wailing meant, after all.

"But it might take weeks to work it out!" said Sian. "You're going to look like a real idiot if everyone knows what the next task is and you don't!"

"Leave her alone, Sian, she's earned a bit of a break," said Chris, as Chrissie placed the last two cards on top of the castle and the whole lot blew up, singeing her eyebrows.

"Nice look, Chrissie ... might go well with your dress robes, that will."

It was Tanya and Geri. They sat down at the table with Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I as Chrissie felt how much damage had been done.

"Chrissie, can we borrow Piggledon?" Geri asked.

"No, she's off delivering a letter," said Chrissie. "Why?"

"Because Geri wants to invite her to the ball," said Tanya sarcastically. Sian chuckled at this. Chrissie frowned at her.

"Because we want to send a letter, custard brain," said Geri.

"You two can borrow my owl if you want," said Chris. "I don't mind."

"Cheers, Chris," said Tanya. Chris nodded.

"Who d'you two keep writing to, eh?" said Chrissie.

"Nose out, Chrissie, or I'll burn that off for you, too," said Tanya, waving her wand threateningly. "So ... you lot got dates for the ball yet?"

"Nope," said Chris.

"Well, you'd better hurry up, cousin, or all the good ones will be gone," said Tanya.

"Who're you going with, then?" said Chrissie.

Tanya giggled uncharacteristically, before she said, "Andrew," with a slight trace of embarrassment.

"What?" said Chris, taken aback. "You mean, he's already asked you?"

"Good point," said Tanya. She turned her head and called across the room, "Oi! Andrew!"

Andrew, who had been talking to Aaron Spinnet near the fire, looked over at her.

"What?" he called back.

"Can I have a word?" she said, with a slight giggle.

Andrew looked taken aback, but nodded. Tanya looked slightly nervous, but shrugged it off as she got up and she and Andrew went to a corner of the common room. Geri, Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I watched the two of them talking. It only took a couple of minutes, where we saw a lot of different expressions pass between them, until they nodded, both apparently pleased with themselves, and broke off. Andrew headed back to Aaron with a large grin plastered on his face, and Tanya looked like she was about to giggle with glee.

"There you go," Tanya said to Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I, as she did a quick giggle. "Piece of cake."

She then yawned and said, "Let's go and use Catonia, then, Geri, come on ..."

They left. Chrissie stopped feeling her eyebrows and looked across the smouldering wreck of her card castle at me.

"We should get a move on, you know ... If no one's going to ask us, then we should do it instead. She's right. We don't want to go and end up with a couple of trolls."

Sian let out a splutter of indignation. "A pair of ... what, excuse me?"

"Well - you know," said Chrissie, shrugging, "I'd rather go alone than with - with Elliot Miggs, say."

"Hey, don't be so harsh on the guy!" Chris defended. "His acne's loads better lately - and he's really nice!"

"His nose is off-centre," said Chrissie.

Sian then got angry. "Oh, I see," she said, bristling. "So basically, you're going to take the best-looking guy who'll have you, even if he's completely horrible?"

"Er - yeah, that sounds about right," said Chrissie.

"I'm going to bed," Sian snapped, and she swept off towards the staircase to the dormitories. Before she put one foot on the staircase, she turned round and glared at Chrissie, said, "What is wrong with you?" before she shook her head, looking confused, and headed up the stairs, slamming the door to the girls' dormitories shut behind her.

0000

The Dragon Mort staff, demonstrating a continued desire to impress the visitors from Beauxbatons and Uagadou, seemed determined to show the castle at its best that Christmas. When the decorations went up, I noticed that they were the most stunning that I had ever seen inside the school, before or since. Everlasting icicles were attached to the banisters of the marble staircase; the usual twelve Christmas trees in the Great Hall were bedecked with everything from luminous holly berries to real, hooting, golden owls, and the suits of armour had all been bewitched to sing carols whenever anyone passed them. It was quite something to hear "Oh Come, All Ye Faithful" sung by an empty helmet that only knew half the words. Several times, Match the caretaker had to extract Weeves from inside the armour, where she had taken to hiding, filling in the gaps in the songs with lyrics of her own invention, all of which were very rude.

And yet, I still hadn't plucked up the courage to ask Khan to the ball. Chrissie and I were getting very nervous by this point, though as I pointed out, Chrissie would look much less stupid than I would without a partner; I was supposed to be starting the dancing with the other Champions, after all.

"I suppose there's always Old Moany," I said gloomily, referring to the ghost who haunted the boys' toilets on the second floor (read the Chamber of Mysteries).

"Kiara - we've just got to grip our teeth and do it," said Chrissie firmly on Friday morning, in a tone that suggested we were planning the storming of an impregnable fortress. "When we get back to the common room tonight, we'll both have partners - agreed?"

"Er ... OK," I said.

But I remember that every time I had glimpsed Khan that day - during break and then lunchtime, and once on the way to History of Magic - he was surrounded by friends. My God, the guy never went anywhere alone; I couldn't even ambush him on the way to the bathroom, for crying out loud! He even went in there with an escort of about four or five boys. I then reasoned with myself that if I didn't do it soon, he was bound to ask - or worse, have been asked by - someone else.

I found it hard to concentrate in Triphorm's Antidotes test, and consequently forgot to add the key ingredient - a bezoar - meaning that I received bottom marks. But I didn't care; I was too busy screwing up the courage for what I was about to do. When the bell rang, I grabbed my bag and hurried to the dungeon door.

"I'll meet you at dinner," I said hurriedly to Chris, Sian and Chrissie, and I dashed upstairs.

All I had to do was to ask Khan for a private word, that was all ... I hurried off through the packed corridors looking for him, and (rather sooner than I had expected) I found him, emerging from a Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson.

When I saw him, the same nervous excitement that I felt when Professor Darbus told me about dancing with a partner at the Yule Ball coursed through me; and stifling a nervous giggle, I approached Khan and said, "Er - Khan? Could I have a word with you?"

Khan looked slightly taken aback, and stared at me for a few moments. The excitement that I felt before was quickly evaporating as he looked at me. I then breathed an inward sigh of relief as he shrugged and said, "OK," and followed me out of earshot of his friends.

I turned to look at him and I felt my stomach flutter as I looked at his handsome face.

"Er," I said, giggling nervously.

I couldn't ask him. I couldn't. But I had to. Khan stood there, looking puzzled, watching me.

Then the words came out before I had quite got my tongue around them.

"Wangoballwime?"

"Sorry?" said Khan.

I took a deep breath, to calm both my nerves and the giggles, and said more slowly, "D'you - d'you want to go to the ball with me?" Oh, of all the times to go red in the face, why did it have to be then? _Why?_

"Oh!" said Khan, and he went red, too. "Oh, Kiara, I'm really sorry," and he looked it, too. "I've already asked someone, and they said yes."

"Oh," was all I could think to say.

It was an odd moment for me; a moment before, my insides had been fluttering madly, but then I didn't seem to have any insides at all. Plus, it felt like someone had just taken a knife and plunged it deep in my heart.

"Oh, OK," I said, "no problem."

"I'm really sorry," he said again.

"That's OK," I said.

We stood there, looking at each other, and then Khan said, "Well - "

"Yeah," I said.

"Well, bye," said Khan, still very red. He walked away.

I called after him, before I could stop myself.

"Who're you going with?"

"Oh - Georgia," he said. "Georgia Diggs."

"Oh, right," was all I said.

My insides came back again, even as the knife twisted even further in my heart, and my insides filled with lead in their absence. Completely forgetting about dinner, I walked slowly back up to Lion-Heart Tower, Khan's voice echoing in my ears with every step I took. _"Georgia - Georgia Diggs."_ Up until then, I had been starting to quite like Georgia - prepared to overlook the fact that she had once beaten me at Quidditch, and was beautiful, and popular, and nearly everyone's favourite Champion. At that moment, however, I came to think that Georgia was in fact a useless beauty-model, who didn't have enough brains to fill an eggcup. As I thought this, I felt my eyes begin to sting, but I would not let the useless tears fall. I would not, I would not, I would not ...

"Fairy lights," I said dully to the Fat Lord in a choked voice - the password had been changed the previous day.

"Yes, indeed, dear," he trilled, straightening his new Christmas hat as he swung forwards to admit me.

Entering the common room, I looked around, and to my surprise I saw Chrissie sitting ashen-faced in a distant corner. Chris was sitting with her, talking to her in what seemed to be a low, soothing voice.

"What's up, Chrissie?" I said, joining them.

Chrissie looked up at me, a sort of blind horror on her face.

"Why did I do it?" she said wildly. "I don't know what made me do it!"

"What?" I said.

"She - er - just asked Ferdinand Desjardin to go to the ball with her," said Chris. He looked as though he was fighting back a smile, but he kept rubbing Chrissie's arm sympathetically.

"You _what_?" I said, temporarily forgetting my own pain.

"I don't know what made me do it!" Chrissie gasped again. "What was I playing at? There were people - all around - I've gone mad - everyone watching! I was just walking past him in the Entrance Hall - he was standing there, talking to Diggs - and it sort of came over me - and I asked him!"

Chrissie moaned and put her face in her hands. She kept talking, though the words were barely distinguishable. "He looked at me like I was a sea slug or something. Didn't even answer. And then - I dunno - I just sort of came to my senses and ran for it."

"He's part Coltee," I said. "You were right - his grandfather was one. It wasn't your fault, I bet you just walked past when he was turning on the charm for Diggs and got a blast of it - but he was wasting his time. She's going with Khan Chan."

My pain came back then. Chrissie looked up.

"I asked him to go with me just now," I said dully, "and he told me."

Chris had suddenly stopped smiling.

"This is mad," said Chrissie, "we're the only ones left who haven't got anyone - well, except Nikita. Hey - guess who she asked? _Chris!_ "

Chris' face flushed slightly, and he glared at Chrissie.

"What?" I said, completely distracted by this news. I gazed at Chris, startled. "Did she really, Chris?"

"Well ..." Chris began slowly, not looking at any of us, as Chrissie, who had got some of the colour back in her face, started laughing. "She said that I've always been really nice to her ... and that Sian and I help her out with schoolwork and stuff ... but I said I couldn't because I was already going with someone - "

"No, as if!" Chrissie but-in suddenly. "You just didn't want to go with Nikita ... I mean, who would?"

"Don't!" said Chris, annoyed. "Don't laugh - "

Just then, Sian climbed in through the portrait hole.

"Why weren't you three at dinner?" she said, coming over to join us.

"Because - oh, shut up laughing, you two - because I've been comforting Chrissie, because she's just been turned down by the guy she wanted to take to the ball, as has Kiara!"

That shut Chrissie and I up.

"Thanks a bunch, Chris," snarled Chrissie.

"All the good-looking ones taken, Chrissie," said Sian loftily. "Elliot Miggs starting to look quite handsome now, is he? Well, I'm sure you'll find someone _somewhere_ who'll have you."

Chris then decided to say, "Sian - you are a girl ..."

Sian looked at him through narrowed eyes, and said sarcastically, "Really, it's taken you fourteen years to figure it out?" Sian then rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Look, Sian, I know you're a girl, OK?" Chris amended quickly, standing up and going towards her. Sian turned to face him and he continued, "So - will you go to the ball with me?"

"No, I can't," Sian snapped.

"Oh, come on," he said impatiently, "I need a partner, I'm going to look really stupid if I haven't got one, everyone else has ..."

"I can't come with you," said Sian, now blushing, "because I'm already going with someone."

"Oh, please!" Chris scoffed. "Who'd ask you to go with them?"

That did it. A blaze of fire shot through Sian's eyes, but somehow she managed to keep her temper under control. After she had taken a few deep breaths, she said to Chris in a voice of forced calm, "Can I have a word with you, Rickers?" And before Chris could answer, Sian had grabbed his arm and pulled him off to the corner furthest away from us.

I didn't take much notice of their conversation, but turned back to Chrissie, who looked as shocked as I did with what had just happened, and asked her, "D'you know who she's going with?"

Chrissie shook her head and asked me, "D'you?"

"No."

"I do," said a voice behind us. Chrissie and I looked around and saw Merida, who was accompanied by Ben and Dave.

"Who's she going with, then?" Chrissie asked her. Merida shook her head, trying not to laugh. "Aww, come on, Merida!"

"Sorry, Chrissie," said Merry, "but I promised Sian I wouldn't say anything to anybody - including you!"

Chrissie put her head in her hands again, and moaned, "Oh, this is great! My eldest sister gets a date, and I don't! I mean, look at me!" Chrissie gasped, lifting her head. "Who would ask a plain girl like me to a fancy ball?"

"I would," said a quiet voice. Chrissie, Merida, Dave and I all looked at Ben, who had just spoken, and seemed unembarrassed by what he had just said. "I mean ... if you want to," he added sheepishly, shrugging.

Chrissie's face brightened and she said, giggling and blushing at the same time, "All right, then."

Ben beamed back at Chrissie, who kept on giggling, as Chris and Sian re-joined us.

"What's going on?" Sian asked, staring incredulously at her giggling sister.

"Ben just asked Chrissie to go to the ball with him, and she said yes," I answered for Chrissie.

Chris and Sian were quite surprised by this, but then they smiled at Chrissie. I was laughing along with Chrissie for some time, before I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. Recognising the rush that went through me at those taps, I looked up and saw Chris beside me, looking at me in earnest.

"Will you walk with me?" he said, offering me his hand.

I was surprised at this, for Chris had never asked me to walk alone with him before, but I quickly shrugged off the shock and took his hand. We both felt a shudder at the rush that went through us, which we tried to ignore as Chris smiled at me and led me out of the portrait hole.

We walked around the castle for some time. My hand was still in Chris' as we walked, him obviously leading me, for I was blind as to where he was taking me. After a while, though, we came to a disused classroom. Chris opened the door, checked the coast was clear and led me inside, closing the door behind us.

As Chris let go of my hand to light the candles, I noticed that the desks had been pushed back against the walls. I turned to look back at Chris, who had finished lighting the candles, and was leaning against the teacher's desk, looking at me. Thinking of nothing else to say, I asked, "So, Chris, why did you bring me here?"

Chris jumped suddenly back to his senses, then said, "Well, we're here because I have a couple of things to ask you ..." He took a deep breath, before he said, "Kiara, I asked Sian to go with me, because I have no one to go with, which is true. I still don't. And seeing that Sian is ... going with someone else, I wondered if you would like to go to the ball with me?"

Chris looked at me steadily, waiting for my answer. I knew that he was desperate, and seeing that he had no one to ask, and that he was also my friend, I said, "Yes, Chris, I will go to the ball with you."

Chris and I smiled warmly at each other, and I don't know which of us felt more relieved at having someone to take to the ball, me or him. Then Chris' smile faded, and for the first time since we had come to this room, he avoided my gaze. He seemed suddenly nervous.

"What's wrong, Chris?" I asked him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. I felt a strong tremor go through him at my touch, which I ignored. He still didn't look at me, so I said, trying to sound reassuring, "Come on, you can tell me. I'm sure it can't be that bad."

Chris chuckled half-heartedly, as he turned back to face me and said, "You say that now." He then took another deep breath and said, "I can't dance."

I inwardly breathed a sigh of relief, for I had imagined something worse. "What?"

He sighed again. "I can't dance, Kiara, all right? I've tried many times, but I just can't seem to get it."

"Oh, now, I'm sure it can't be _that_ bad, Chris," I said half-jokingly, in an attempt to reassure him.

Chris snorted, and said, "Oh, yeah? Check this out ..." He then moved to the middle of the floor and started to dance - well, if you could call what he was doing dancing, anyway. His feet and arms were moving wildly and in all directions, so much so that he looked like a spider who was jerking all over the place. He certainly was no professional. He then tripped over his feet, and I tried unsuccessfully to stifle my laughter.

"See? I'm hopeless at it," Chris grumbled as he got up, not looking at me, clearly embarrassed.

I successfully stifled a laugh that time, then said, "No, you're not. You just need some help, that's all. I'll help you."

Chris lifted his head up slightly. "You will?"

I nodded earnestly. "Mm-hm. My grandmothers taught me when I was little, so don't worry, I won't let you fall." Chris grumbled again, still not looking at me. I sighed, walked towards him and took his hand. He jumped at the sudden contact, for he had not noticed me coming, and looked at me. I smiled gently at him and led him back to the middle of the room.

"Now, you're right hand goes here," I said, putting his right hand on my waist. He gasped, as another great tremor went through him, which I again ignored. "And you put your left hand in my right." He took my right hand as I put my left hand on his shoulder.

"Now you lead," I said. Chris looked shocked, and somewhat afraid and nervous at this.

"What - but I don't know - "

"It's OK," I said, smiling reassuringly at him. "I'll help you. Just keep your eyes on mine and move to the rhythm I set, all right?" Chris nodded his head nervously, and after he took a deep breath for courage, he started moving me around the room.

For the first few minutes, we moved rather awkwardly (and in Chris' case, wrong-footedly) round the room. We were both quite nervous at dancing in the arms of the other, but we soon got over it, and after a while, we loosened up a bit, and our movements flowed more easily as we danced. A few times he did stand on my toes, and I did my best to hide the winces I made, but I'm not sure that I covered them up that well, for he apologised every time he did so. I quickly forgave him each time and we carried on. After about ten minutes or so, Chris got so confident that he picked me up and spun me around before he landed me gracefully back on the floor. I easily imagined myself in that long, frilly dress again, but this time I was dancing safely in Chris' arms, and not once did he let me fall. We were having a good time, dancing and laughing in each other's arms - until we spotted that the door was open, and that Sian and Chrissie were standing there, watching us; and from the looks on their faces, they had been watching us for quite some time.

We stopped then, and we quickly and rather reluctantly stepped away from each other, both of us blushing profusely. We laughed nervously at each other, before I quickly left the room, pushing through Sian and Chrissie as I did so.

 **CHRIS**

From not knowing how to dance, to being in Kiara's arms, and dancing quite good for the ball, in the arms of the girl he was taking to the Yule Ball, was a good moment for Chris, he thought, as he twirled Kiara around. They were having a good time, laughing and dancing in that room. Alone. Chris realised that he was comfortable dancing with Kiara like this. At first he was nervous, and even more so when he stood on her toes. Even though Kiara tried to cover her little winces, he could tell that he had caused her some slight pain. But to his relief, Kiara didn't seem to mind. She just said that he was doing a good job and that they should keep practicing.

Chris was happy when she said that, for it meant that he could look at her beautiful form more. Slightly brush his fingers through her golden hair, see her gentle smile and how brightly her dark amber eyes sparkled as they danced. It was perfect - until Sian and Chrissie interrupted, that is.

Chris blushed, as did Kiara. They avoided Sian and Chrissie's eyes, and as they did, Chris felt angry with his sisters for interrupting his perfect moment. He expected this from Chrissie, of course, for her timing was terrible - but Sian? That was unexpected. But then, he reasoned, that that wasn't saying much, because everything with Sian was unpredictable.

He was suddenly brought back to the present by Kiara stepping out of his arms. Chris wanted to pull her back, but he knew that the moment was over. He hid his anger by laughing nervously with Kiara, before she ran from the room, taking the warmth and sunshine with her, as Kiara always did whenever she left the room, which Chris had been recognising for some time whenever Kiara was with him.

Chris turned his attention back to Sian and Chrissie, who, much to his annoyance, were both watching him smugly. His anger quickly returned, as he hissed at his sisters, "Why? Why did you have to come now?"

"Well, it was nearing curfew, and I didn't want you to get in trouble, so I set off to find you," Sian shrugged. "And Chrissie's here because - well - you know Chrissie follows me wherever I go."

"Yeah, sorry," Chrissie apologised. "But when we saw how much fun you two were having, we didn't want to disturb you. Kiara's taught you well, by the way," she added, as Sian nodded in agreement.

Instead of calming his anger, this only incensed him more. He paced around the room, angry at his sisters for interrupting his time with the girl he -

Sian and Chrissie were still watching him, Chris saw, but he didn't care; until he saw the look of shocked realisation that crossed Sian's face. Chris paused in his pacing, confusion replacing rage at his sister's expression.

"What?" he asked her.

"I don't believe it," Sian gasped, the ghost of a laugh escaping her mouth. Chris looked at Sian as she looked at him, with a look that he had seen Sian use on people only a few times before, and he knew that he would lose. And before he could stop her, Sian said -

"You're in love with Kiara, aren't you?" Chrissie gasped at Sian's words.

"Of course, he's _totally_ in love with her," she said, clarifying everything Sian said as usual, when Chrissie didn't understand what was going on.

"What? Pfft, no. That's crazy talk. I'm not in love with her," Chris said, along with some other comments that were along the same lines; but the more he continued, the more Sian and Chrissie kept saying things like, "Yeah, right," and, "Sure you don't." After much stuttering and trying to explain himself, Chris said, "Shut up!" and pushed past Sian and Chrissie, just as Kiara had done a few minutes prior. As he stomped off down the corridor, the sounds of his angry footsteps couldn't keep out the sounds of his sister's laughter.

"He's in love with her," he heard Sian say.

" _So_ in love with her," he then heard Chrissie say. Chris then heard his sisters giggling as they hurried off.

Chris slowed his footsteps down as he leaned against a wall and put his head in his hands, thinking of what his annoying sisters had said to him. They told him he was in love with Kiara. Well, that couldn't be true, could it? Chris thought. He was fourteen, after all, and there would be a time for love later. He shared a Soul-Bond with Kiara, that he had known for four years now, but that didn't necessarily mean that he was in love with her. Yes, he had admitted that she was beautiful, that she he found her amusing at times, that her presence filled him warmth and was as warm as the sun, which sparkled through her beautiful golden hair. He also acknowledged that Kiara's eyes were unlike any other he had ever seen, and that seeing her every day filled with him with happiness and a sort of peacefulness he never knew existed until a few months ago. She was one of the bravest people he knew; her laugh always made him smile; the unhappiness whenever someone asked her to the ball, and the sudden unexplained happiness and relief she gave him when Kiara had declined going to the ball with someone; the euphoria he had felt when Kiara agreed to got to the ball with him; and her touch - oh! How he longed to pull her to him like he had when they had danced, to hold her close and relish in the feeling of her, breathe in her scent of fresh grass, peppermint and honey, and just protect her, for always, for when they had touched - oh, it had been glorious -

He lifted his head, breathing heavily, for the realisation had hit him, struck him harder than lightning, for it was true what his sisters had said. He was in love with Kiara! How had he not seen it before? But then again, she did see them as friends, this he knew. They were fourteen, so there was plenty of time for him to get Kiara to see him - really see him - the way he saw her, but that would take time, this Chris knew. Besides, there was also the matter of Khan Chan -

As he thought about Khan, his chest tightened and a flash of anger coursed through his veins as jealousy took hold of him, sunk her fangs deep into him and wouldn't let go. What did Khan have that he hadn't? Chris wondered. Sure, Khan was handsome enough and was popular, but did he know Kiara the way he knew her? He hadn't even been on the dangerous adventures they had been through. True, he, Sian and Chrissie hadn't been with Kiara every step of the way, but still, they had been with Kiara a lot further than Khan had.

Bu then Chris remembered that Khan was taking Georgia to the ball, and that gave him a small slice of relief, for he knew that as long as Khan was with Georgia, that Kiara didn't have a shot with him; but he wasn't truly happy, because whether Khan was with Georgia or not, that would not stop Kiara from liking him. But that would not stop Chris from trying to get Kiara to be his, oh no, for he was determined to get her. If she wanted to date Khan if something happened to Georgia, then that was fine. He wouldn't stand in their way, but that did not mean that he would sit back and be happy about it. No. He loved Kiara, nothing was going to change that now, and no matter how long it took, he would not be happy until Kiara was in his arms, close to his heart for always, just as in love with him as he was with her, and a love, he hoped, would keep growing until the end of their lives.

 **AN: Hope you enjoyed Chris' thoughts here. More to come.**


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

 **The Yule Ball** **\- Part 1**

 **KIARA**

Despite the heavy load of homework that we fourth-years had been given for the holidays, I was in no mood to work when term ended, and spent the week leading up to Christmas enjoying myself as fully as possible along with everyone else. Lion-Heart Tower was hardly less crowded then than during term-time; it seemed to have shrunk slightly, too, as its inhabitants were so much rowdier than usual. Tanya and Geri had had a great success with their Further Funny Fingers, and for the first couple of days of the holidays, people kept sprouting more fingers which fell off their hands after five seconds and fell to crumbs on the floor. Before long, however, all we Lion-Hearts had learnt to treat food anybody else offered us with extreme caution, in case it had a Further Funny Finger concealed in the centre, and Geri confided to me that she and Tanya were working on developing something else. I then made a mental note to never accept so much as a crisp from Tanya and Geri, which is a promise I have kept to this day, and I do not intend to break that vow anytime soon.

Anyhoo, seeing as it was December at this point, snow was of course falling thickly upon the castle and its grounds. The pale blue Beauxbatons carriage looked like a large, chilly, frosted pumpkin next to the iced gingerbread house that was Mina's cabin, while the Uagadou submarine's portholes were glazed with ice, the top completely covered in frost, that it looked like a block of ice (because it's silver). The house-elves down in the kitchen were outdoing themselves with a series of rich, warming stews and savoury puddings, and only Ferdinand Desjardin seemed to be able to find anything to complain about.

"It is too 'eavy, all zis Dragon Mor' food," we heard him saying grumpily as we left the Great Hall behind him one evening (Chrissie skulking behind me, keen not to be seen by Ferdinand). "I will not fit into my dress robes."

"Oooh, there's a tragedy," said Chris snappily, as Ferdinand went out into the Entrance Hall. "He really thinks a lot of himself, that one, doesn't he?"

"Jealous much, are we, Rickers?" Sian asked him teasingly. Chris frowned at her.

"What? Nooo," he denied. "Jealous? Me? Of that douchebag? You're crazy, Sian! Ridiculous to assume such a ..."

He trailed off lamely as he flushed furiously. Sian, Chrissie and I smiled at his discomfort. After a while, Chrissie said suddenly, "Hey, Sian?"

"Yes, Chrissie?"

"Who're you going to the ball with?"

She and Chris kept springing this question on her, hoping to startle her with a response by asking it when she least expected it, but Sian always refused. That day, however, she sighed and said, "All right, I'll tell you ... It's Kopa. Happy now?"

"Outsider's brother? _That_ Kopa?" I asked her teasingly.

Sian giggle slightly, and said, "Yes. He and I spoke a few weeks ago and, uncomfortable as it was at first, we both apologised for how we acted, for it was kind of stupid, and we've been getting along fine since then; and when the ball was announced, he found me and asked me when there was no one else around. I couldn't say no to him! Besides, despite what you think Kovu is, he's a really nice, sweet, decent guy, and - "

"You're joking, Dawson?" said Malty, behind us, looking at Chrissie. "You're not telling me someone from Uagadou asked _that_ to the ball? Not the long-molared Sackbrain?"

Chris, Chrissie and I whipped around, but Sian said loudly, waving to somebody over Grumpy's shoulder, "Hello, Professor Grumpy!"

Malty went pale and jumped backwards, looking wildly around for Grumpy, but she was still up at the staff table, finishing her stew.

"Twitchy little ferret, aren't you, Malty?" said Sian scathingly, and she, Chris, Chrissie and I went up the marble staircase, laughing heartily.

"Sian," said Chris, looking sideways at her, suddenly frowning, "your teeth ..."

"What about them?" she said.

"Well, they're different ... I've just noticed ..."

"Of course they are - did you expect me to keep those fangs Malty gave me?"

"No, I mean, they're different to how they were before she put the hex on you ... they're all ... straight and - and normal-sized."

Sian suddenly smiled very mischievously, and I noticed it too: it was a very different smile from the one I remembered. And judging from the gasp that came from next to me, Chrissie noticed it, too.

"Well ... when I went to Matron to get them shrunk, she held up a mirror and told me to stop her when they were all back to how they normally were," she said. "And I just ... let her carry on a bit." She smiled even more widely. "I've had trouble with my crooked teeth, too, so I also asked her if she could straighten them for me while we were focused on my teeth. I don't think she was too pleased by that, but she saw how desperate I was, and agreed. I don't think Ma and Dad will be too upset with me. They're my teeth, after all. And I'm quite surprised you three haven't noticed before now that my teeth had changed!" Sian suddenly snapped at us, making Chris, Chrissie and I jump. Sian then shook her head, and said, "Now that I think about it, I'm not surprised. Chris, well, you're a guy, so I get why you didn't notice; Chrissie, you're always slow on the uptake; and Kiara, well, you've been busy with the Triwizard Tournament - hey! Look! Piggledon's back!"

Chrissie's tiny owl was twittering madly on top of one of the icicle-laden banisters, a scroll of parchment to his leg. People passing him were pointing and laughing, and a group of third-year girls paused and said, "Oh, look at the weeny owl! Isn't he _cute_?"

For a moment, I saw Chrissie look really angry at Piggledon, but she hid it well as she called, "Piggledon! Come here!"

The tiny owl flew excitedly around her head, twittering eagerly. Chrissie caught him gently, and she, Chris, Sian and I hurried up the stairs, past the third-year girls and on to Lion-Heart Tower.

Once we passed the girl, Chrissie hissed to Piggledon, "You bring letters straight to the addressee! You don't hang around showing off!" Piggledon gave a muffled hoot in Chrissie's hand; even though I could hardly hear it, I think he was pleased with himself.

"Here, Kiara - take it!" Chrissie then said, as she shoved Piggledon into my hands. I pulled my parents' reply off Piggledon's leg, and I pocketed it, as we hurried back to Lion-Heart Tower.

Everyone in the common room was much too busy letting off holiday steam to observe what anyone else was up to. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I sat apart from everyone else by a dark window that was gradually filling up with snow, and, also rather opportunely, had Harold waiting outside it, with the reply from Grandmother Sarabi. Sian let him in, and I took the letter off his leg.

"I haven't got anything for you, Harold. Sorry," I said gently to my owl. He nipped my ear affectionately, before he and Piggledon took off out the window for the Owlery. Sian closed the window and I looked at the letters. The one from Grandmother Sarabi I pushed aside for the time being, and turned my attention to the one from my parents. I read out:

 _My dearest Kiara,_

 _Your mother and I both send you our congratulations on getting past the Horntail. Whoever put your name in that Goblet shouldn't be feeling too happy right now. I was going to suggest a Conjunctivitus Curse, as a dragon's eyes are its weakest point -_

"That's what Outsider did!" Sian whispered.

 _" - but your way was better, we're impressed._

 _Don't get complacent, though, Kiara. You've only done one task; whoever put you in for the Tournament's got plenty more opportunity if they're trying to hurt you. Keep your eyes open - particularly when the person we discussed is around - and concentrate on keeping yourself out of trouble._

 _Your mother sends you her love, as do I, and we also send our regards to Chris, Sian and Chrissie. Keep in touch, for we still want to hear about anything unusual._

 _Love you always,_

 _Daddy_

I opened the letter from Grandmother Sarabi next. I won't bother writing it out here, for it was in the same style as my father's - well, near enough, anyway. She told me how pleased she was with me for getting past the dragon, to heed my parent's advice, for she thought they were right about Kula, and that she wanted me to keep in touch about what was going on at the school. She finished by saying that Grandmother Sarafina sent me her love (as usual), and that she was sending me an extra special Christmas present that year, something that I would need for the Yule Ball.

"They sound exactly like Grumpy," I said quietly, tucking their letters away again inside my robes, " "Constant vigilance!" You'd think I walk around with my eyes shut, banging off the walls ..."

"But they're right, Kiara," said Sian, "you have still got two tasks to do. You really out to have a look at that egg, you know, and start working out what it means ..."

"Sian, she's got ages!" snapped Chris. "Look, I'm concerned for her too, S.D., but it's Christmas, so lighten up a little, will you?"

"Yeah, Sian, Chris is right," said Chrissie. "Want a game of chess, Kiara?"

"Yeah, OK," I said. Then, spotting the look on Sian's face, I said, "Come on, how am I supposed to concentrate with all this noise going on? I won't even be able to hear the egg over this lot."

"Oh, I suppose not," she sighed, and she and Chris sat down to watch our chess match, which culminated in an exciting checkmate of Chrissie's, involving a couple of recklessly brave pawns and a very violent bishop.

0000

I awoke very suddenly on Christmas Day. Wondering what had caused my abrupt return to consciousness, I opened my eyes and saw something with very large, round, green eyes staring back at me in the darkness, so close we were almost nose to nose.

 _"Dokey!"_ I yelled, scrambling away from the elf so fast that I almost fell out of bed. "Don't _do_ that!"

"Dokey is sorry, miss!" squeaked Dokey anxiously, jumping backwards with her long fingers over her mouth. "Dokey is only wanting to wish Kiara Pride-Lander "Merry Christmas" and bring her a present, miss! Kiara Pride-Lander did say Dokey could come and see her sometimes, miss!"

"It's OK," I said, still breathing rather faster than usual, while my heart rate returned to normal. Just - just prod me or something in future, all right? Don't bend over me like that ..."

I pulled back the hangings around my four-poster, and looked around. My yell had awoken Sian, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel and Merida. All of them were peering through the gaps in their own hangings, heavy-eyed and tousle-haired.

"Someone attacking you, Kiara?" Merida asked sleepily.

"No, it's just Dokey," I muttered. "Go back to sleep."

"Nah ... presents!" said Merida, spotting the large pile at the foot of her bed. Sian, Chrissie, Beth and Kestrel decided that now they were awake, they might as well get down to some present-opening, too. I turned my attentions back to Dokey, who was standing nervously next to my bed, still looking worried that she had upset me. There was a Christmas bauble tied to the loop on top of her tea-cosy.

"Can Dokey give Kiara Pride-Lander her present?" she squeaked tentatively.

"'Course you can," I said. "Er ... I've got something for you, too."

This was a lie; I hadn't bought anything for Dokey at all, but I quickly opened my trunk, and pulled out a particularly knobbly rolled-up pair of socks. Those were my oldest and foulest, khaki, and had once belonged to Aunt Mavuto, who had given them to me, because she thought I was worth nothing else. The reason they were extra knobbly was because I had been using them to cushion my Sneakoscope in my third year. I pulled out the Sneakoscope and handed the socks to Dokey, saying, "Sorry, I forgot to wrap them ..."

But Dokey was utterly delighted.

"Socks are Dokey's favourite, favourite clothes, miss!" she said, ripping off her old ones and pulling on Aunt Mavuto's. "I has seven now, miss ... but, miss ..." she said, her eyes widening, having pulled both socks up to their highest extent, so that bthey reached to the bottom of her skirt, "they has made a mistake in the shop, Kiara Pride-Lander, they is giving you two the same!"

"Ah, no, Kiara, how come you didn't spot that?" said Chrissie, grinning over from her own bed, which was strewn with wrapping paper. "Tell you what, Dokey - you can have my socks, too - "

"Oh no she will not, Christina!" snapped Sian, staring at Chrissie, affronted. Chrissie's shoulder's slumped and she remained silent. Sian then turned to Dokey, and smiled warmly at the elf. "Here, Dokey," she said, handing Dokey a small, multi-coloured striped jumper, with socks to match. "I made them myself, especially for you. Merry Christmas, Dokey!"

"Dokey looked quite overwhelmed as she stepped up to Sian's bed and took the gifts from her gently. "Miss is very kind!" she squeaked, her eyes brimming with tears again, curtseying deeply to Sian. "Dokey knew miss must be a great witch, for she is one of Kiara Pride-Lander's greatest friends, but Dokey did not know that she was alos as generous of spirit, as noble, as selfless - "

Sian looked pleased, and blushed at the praise she got. "Well ... you deserve it, Dokey!" she said, smiling gently at the elf.

That did it. Dokey was so overcome with emotion that she ran towards Sian, scrambled onto her bed and, before Sian knew what was happening, Dokey had thrown her arms around Sian's neck, and was sobbing convulsively, with what I hoped were happy tears. Sian was slightly shocked for a few moments, before she hugged Dokey back, whispering, "You're welcome, Dokey."

They were like that for some time, until Chrissie's cry of, "Cool! Thanks, Kiara!" made them split apart.

Chrissie had just opened the present I had sent her, which was a Chudley Cannons hat. She put it on her head, and it went all right with her hair, I suppose.

Sian put Dokey down gently, and she came running back to me. She then handed me a small package, which turned out to be - socks.

"Dokey is making them herself, miss!" said the elf happily. "She is buying the wool out of her wages, miss!"

The left sock was bright red, and had a pattern of broomsticks upon it; the right sock was green, with a pattern of Snitches.

"They're ... they're really ... well, thanks, Dokey," I said, and I pulled them on, causing Dokey's eyes to leak with happiness again.

"Dokey must go now, miss, we is already making Christmas dinner in the kitchens!" said Dokey, and she hurried out of the dormitory, waving goodbye to Sian, Chrissie and the others as she passed.

My other presents were far more satisfactory than Dokey's odd socks. Chrissie had given me a book called _Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland_ ; Chris, a bottle of perfume that smelled of lavender and roses; my parents, a handy penknife with attachments to unlock any lock and undo any knot; Grandmother Sarafina, a new makeup bag, filled with fancy, new cosmetics and makeup remover; and Mina, a vast box of sweets including all my favourites - All-Flavour Beans, Multi-Flavour Fruit-Frogs, Droobles Best Blowing Gum and Fizzing Whizzbees. There was also, of course, Sian's hand-knitted jumper, which was aqua-blue, with a picture of a dragon on, complete with a cushion, which had the same writing around it like it always did, with a picture of my parents in the middle. The rest of the Dawsons sent me CDs and DVDs, and Mr Dawson sent me some treacle fudge.

Now, you didn't think I'd forget Grandmother Sarabi, did you, reader? Of course not! She sent me something wonderful. It was a leather-bound box, very old and very heavy. It had a letter on top, which I pulled away, ripped it open and read it. This is what it said:

 _Kiara_

 _These are some of our family jewels that I picked out especially for tonight. I know you'll look beautiful, so go out there and knock everyone dead (not literally, of course). I hope you like these treasures, and I hope that you'll enjoy yourself - if not for you, then at least for me._

 _Love,_

 _Grandmother Sarabi_

I put the letter aside, opened the box and gasped. Inside was a pair of tear drop earrings and necklace with a silver chain. The jewels were blue moonstones. But the most beautiful thing of all was the tiara. The banding was silver, which interwove in the centre, so that it could hold a symbol in the centre: it was a circle that was split in half: one half was the sun, and the other half was the moon. Blue moonstones were placed at certain points in the banding.

I smiled and touched these treasures gently with my fingertips, but before anyone noticed what I was looking at, I quickly shut the box and pushed it aside, for I did not want the others to see what was inside it until that night.

Sian, Chrissie and I met up with Chris in the Lion-Heart common room, and we went down to breakfast together. We spent most of the morning in Lion-Heart Tower, where we were all enjoying our presents, then we returned to the Great Hall for a magnificent lunch, which included at least a hundred turkeys and Christmas puddings, and large piles of Cribbages Wizarding Crackers.

We went into the grounds that afternoon; the snow was untouched except for the deep channels made by the Uagadou and Beauxbatons students on their way up to the castle. Sian chose to watch myself and the rest of the Dawsons and the Fangs' snowball fight. At five o'clock, though, she, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Tanya, Geri and I headed back to the castle to get ready.

"What, you need three hours to get ready?" said Chris, looking at us incredulously, and paying for his lapse in concentration when a large snowball, thrown by Ben, hit him on the side of the head.

"Brother, you do not know women!" Sian called to him, as we went inside. We all giggled at her honesty. Sian then said she would meet us at the ball once we got to the first floor. We were curious as to where she was going, but we were wise enough to know that she wouldn't tell us, so Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Tanya, Geri and I said, "See you later" to Sian, and we headed back to the Lion-Heart common room.

Now, here I have to back up a little. Do you remember when Sian wanted measurements for the dresses that she was designing for herself, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel, Merida and myself? No ... Then look back, because it's important for this moment. You see, when Sian found the time to do so, she designed our dresses for the Yule Ball, listened to what we wanted in our designs, as well as the colours for each (we all took the mickey out of Chrissie's dress, but she liked it, and you'll see why we joked about it soon).Anyway, once the designs were done, she put them, along with a piece of parchment that held each of our measurements on it, in a file and handed it to Merida, who took them to their mother (remember, at this point in time, Sian and her mother had fallen out, and Sian wasn't speaking to her). From what I heard from Sian, her mother knew a dressmaker, who made our dresses for us. And on that Christmas Day, back in 2007, they were ready.

When Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel and I reached our dormitory, we noticed garment bags which contained our dresses on our beds. The five of us saved our dresses for later. Instead, we changed back into our night-gowns and put our dressing-gowns over them, just for the purpose of doing each other's hair and makeup, which took a few hours, I'm telling you. Then it was time for us to get ready. Chrissie was first. She took her garment bag to an on-suite bathroom, and she came out in a mermaid gown, and for good reason.

The dress she wore floated out at the bottom, then thinning as it moved up her body, hugging it, we saw, and then flowing out again at the top. The sleeves were long, transparent and sparkly. You see, the material was cut into leaves, which had been sewn together, overlapping each other, from her wrists to just above her cleavage. The leaves then extended into a sort of hood around her neck. She had her hair in a high ponytail, with silver hair slides with emeralds in her hair. The dress was, of course, green, and she had brown pumps underneath. Rose blusher was on her cheeks (we had all agreed to use the same blusher), and she had on green eyeshadow and brown lipstick. Yep, Chrissie did indeed look like a tree (interesting fact: even though Sian is the Earth Guardian, and Chrissie is the Water Guardian, Sian's favourite colour is blue, and Chrissie's favourite colour is green). There were also smaller rune symbols for Earth embroidered in the dress.

Beth was next. Her dress was a bright, vibrant red, which, like Chrissie's, clung to her body, but towards the bottom, the dress seemed to split; the main part made itself into a triangle at the front and back (if that makes sense), and then folds upon folds of free-flowing material seemed to burst from underneath the dress out of nowhere. She wore coral boots underneath the dress, and coral lipstick on her lips. Her eyeshadow was orange, and she wore her hair in curls, which flowed freely down her back. The sleeves of her dress were of the same free-flowing material as was her under-dress, short, and were burgundy in colour. Fire runes were embroidered on it.

Then came Kestrel. Her dress was the most strangest of all. It was sunshine yellow, and was made of mounds of material, which were bundled and sewn together in some places. It looked messy, but elegant at the same time. It had butterfly sleeves, and small Air runes were embroidered on it, in a lighter shade of yellow. Kestrel wore white pumps, and her hair hung down in the same way she always had. She wore pale yellow eyeshadow and nude lipstick.

Then it was Merida's turn. Her dress was lilac, long and flowing. The collar reached just below her collar bone, and the bottom of dress touched the floor. The sleeves were cut at the elbow and smaller spirit runes were embroidered in silver. Merida wore purple middle-heel shoes. She wore her hair in a bun, and her eyeshadow and lipstick were purple, too.

Then it was my turn. I picked up my garment bag and jewellery box, went into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I still remember the dress now: it reached to my feet, the skirt slightly flowing, but not as puffy as the others were. The collar was a V-neck, and the sleeves reached my wrists, but were cut in a V-shape on the inside of my wrists, and the bottom of the skirt, the wrists and the collar of the dress had tawny fur sewn on. The dress was dark gold, which showed off the light gold suns that were embroidered. I wore golden, mini-heeled pumps underneath the dress. My hair was done up in a bun like Merida's, but only my fringes were down. I wore gold eyeshadow and red lipstick. I remember when I had changed, I looked at myself in the mirror and was shocked by who I saw looking back at me. I didn't recognise myself "Is that really me? I look beautiful," I whispered to myself. I then remembered the box which Grandmother Sarabi sent to me. Once again, I became enchanted by the jewels, but I was quickly brought back to reality by Chrissie's voice calling, "Come on, Kiara! Hurry up! We want to see you!"

I then quickly put on the earrings, necklace and tiara. Giving myself a final look-over in the mirror, I took a deep breath for courage, opened the door and stepped out.

Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel and Merida gazed at me in shock when they saw me. I grinned nervously, hoping I looked OK. Kestrel was the first to say something.

"Oh, Kiara, you look so beautiful!" she gasped, her presence soothing me, like it always did.

"D'you really think so?" I asked, uncertain but needing to be reassured.

"Kiara, trust me," said Chrissie, smiling warmly at me, "if Chris doesn't faint at the sight of you, it'll be a miracle!"

We all laughed at this, and then we made our way downstairs, out through the portrait hole and down to the Entrance Hall.

When we reached the Entrance Hall, we found it packed with students, not just dragon Mort students, but Uagadou and Beauxbatons students, too. The reason the hall was so packed was because the doors of the Great Hall wouldn't open until eight o'clock. Those people waiting for their partners were edging through the crowd, trying to find each other. I saw Chris, Ben and Dave waiting at the bottom of the stairs for myself, Chrissie and Merida. Ben and Dave were wearing black dress robes, whilst Chris had gone for bottle green, which brought out his eyes.

I spotted Joe and Jack in the crowd. They were both wearing black, and Joe had a girl in topaz on his arm, who was chubby and had an acne problem, and Jack had a girl dressed in red on his arm, her long, ginger hair shining against it. She had plenty of freckles on her face, and both girls looked friendly.

Beth then saw her date: a quite tall, very cute boy with short hair and blue eyes was waiting for her. She ran to him, as Kestrel looked around for her date, who turned out to be none other than Kovu Outsider, who was standing next to Kopa, who kept looking at the stairs every few seconds, obviously looking for Sian.

Anyhoo, when Chrissie, Merida and I reached the bottom of the stairs, I saw Chris and Dave stare at Chrissie, but Ben said that she looked great. They were taken aback a bit by that remark. Ben turned with Chris and Dave to see Merida, and for a time they commented on how good she looked. That was until Ben noticed me, and he nudged Dave, and nodded at me. Dave then looked at me and stared in amazement at me. Chris, wondering what they were staring at, turned, and did a double-take of his head when he saw me.

I saw his eyes start at my feet, and then he raised his head slowly, slowly taking in every inch of my frame; and when his eyes locked on to mine, the look in them was one I will never forget. They were glowing brighter than any jewel ever could. He held my gaze for a while, and I blushed under his empowering gaze. He then did something that I never thought he would do (well, not at that point, anyway). You see, my dear readers, he suddenly grabbed my hand and kissed it. I gasped aloud, not only by his daring, but at the sparks I felt when Chris kissed my hand. I felt a shiver run through me, and my hand felt as though it had just been burnt in the best way from where he had just kissed it. He smiled at me and rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand, which made me blush even more.

"You look wonderful this evening," he said, smiling warmly at me.

I blushed even deeper as I replied, "You don't look so bad yourself, Chris." He grinned at me, as I shook my head and said, "I don't look _that_ good, though." But even as I said this, many of the other students in the hall were glancing at me. I felt Chris' hand digging rather aggressively into mine, and when I looked at him, he was glaring at the people who were staring at me - the boys in particular.

"What's wrong?" I asked him concernedly. Chris jumped slightly and turned to look at me, loosening his grip on my hand, and his expression softened slightly, too, for he smiled at me reassuringly.

"Nothing, I'm fine." He smiled again, but I saw him quickly glare once more at the crowd.

We were then distracted by a loud gasp from Chrissie, who quickly ducked behind Ben. I heard her whisper, "Oh, no" as Ferdinand Desjardin passed us, looking very dapper in robes of the finest black satin, and on his arm was the Raven-Wings Quidditch Captain, Rita Davis. When they had disappeared, Chrissie stood up straight again and looked around the crowd.

"Where _is_ Sian? Have you three seen her?" Chrissie said urgently to Chris, Ben and Dave. The three of them shook their heads.

A group of Snake-Eyes then came up the steps from their dungeon common room. Malty was in front; she was clutching Perry Parker's arm and was wearing frilly robes of pale pink, whereas Perry was dressed in black. Crate and Gabber were both wearing green; they resembled moss-coloured boulders, and neither of them, I was pleased to see, had managed to find a partner - and neither had Rea-Bradley. She was wearing dark purple robes, and looked rather miserable. But I didn't take much notice of her, for at that moment, an "Ooooh"ing came from the crowd, who were focused on something on top of the stairs, which made Chris, Chrissie, Ben, Dave, Merida and I turn around and look up them, too.

A girl, wearing a midnight-blue dress, stood at the top of the marble staircase. The dress reached past her feet, and was embroidered with many small, silver moons and stars on. The dress had a sweetheart neckline, and the outer-sleeves were sewn together just above the elbow on both arms, where they split, revealing longer sleeves below it, which were partly covered by a pair of light blue leather gloves. She wore a phoenix broach on her left side. Her hair was partially done up in a bun, and the rest ran down freely over her right shoulder. She had red lipstick on, and wore silvery-blue eyeshadow, with pink blusher on her cheeks. The girl was, of course, Sian herself.

Sian then picked up the dress carefully, and made her way slowly down the stairs, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground, which I thought was odd for Sian, for she always seemed to radiate confidence. I then saw that Sian had silver pumps on (Sian didn't need to wear high heels for two good reasons: 1. being 5'10, she considered herself tall enough to not wear them, and 2. she hates wearing them, because she can't walk in them). I also noticed that there was a sparkling midnight-blue train, which had pale blue Water runes on, and was attached to the back of the dress, for there were clips in between her shoulder blades, so as you can imagine, the train didn't go that far behind her back.

When Sian got to the bottom of the stairs, she still kept her eyes fixed firmly on the ground in front of her. Then Kopa (who, like the other Uagadou students, was wearing scarlet robes), walked to Sian, and once he reached her, he lifted her chin to meet his eye. When Sian looked into his eyes, a sort of glow came about her form; she smiled warmly, and the brightness of her smile was reflected in the brightness of her eyes.

Sian then turned her head away from Kopa for a second and saw Chris, Chrissie, Ben, Dave, Merida and I looking at her, and after exchanging a few words with Kopa, they came over to us.

"Wow, Sian, you look great! I can't believe you designed that yourself!" I gasped.

"Thanks, Kiara," she said, and smiled even more brightly, as she turned her head from me, looked right down the line and stopped at Chrissie, where she seemed amazed at how well Chrissie's dress had turned out. She kept staring at Chrissie, until a voice in her head must have spoken, for she said, "Oh, where are my manners? Chris, Chrissie, Kiara, Ben, Dave, Merida, this is Kopa, Kovu's adopted brother. Kopa - well, I've said their names once, so I'll just tell you that these people you see before you make up most of my family."

I was quite shocked to hear Sian mention me as part of her family, for that was the first time she had mentioned me as such before, but Kopa didn't seem to mind; he chuckled at Sian's words and said, in a warm, kind voice, "Now, Sian, you and I both know that this is not the first time you have mentioned their names to me." He then turned to us and, even though his face was covered by thick, black cloths, we could see the smile in his eyes as he said, "Sian thinks very highly of you all - even you, Kiara."

"She does?" I asked, amazed at these words. I looked at Sian for an answer, but she blushed furiously and ducked her head. Kopa chuckled again, but before he could say anything else, the oak front doors opened, and everyone in the Entrance Hall - myself included - turned to look as the rest of the Uagadou students entered with Professor Kula. Over their heads I saw that an area of the lawn right in front of the castle had been transformed into a sort of grotto full of fairy lights - meaning hundreds of actual living fairies were sitting in the rose bushes that had been conjured there, and fluttering over the statues of what seemed to be Father Christmas and his reindeer.

Then Professor Darbus' voice called, ""Champions over here, please!"

Chris and I said "See you in a minute" to Sian, Kopa, Chrissie, Ben, Dave, and Merida, and then walked forwards, the crowd parting, to let us through. Professor Darbus, who was wearing dress robes of red tartan, and had arranged a rather ugly wreath of thistles around the brim of her hat, told us to wait on one side of the doors while everyone else went inside; we were to enter the Great Hall in procession when the rest of the students had sat down. Ferdinand Desjardin and Rita Davis had stationed themselves nearest the doors; Davis looked so stunned by her good fortune in having Ferdinand for a partner that she hardly took her eyes off him. Georgia and Khan were close to me, too; I looked away from them so I wouldn't have to talk to them. My eyes fell instead on Kestrel, who was next to Outsider. We grinned at each other.

"Have you seen Sian tonight?" I asked her. "She looks amazing, doesn't she?"

Kestrel giggled, and said, "Yes, she does. And so do you, Kiara."

I brushed that comment away with a wave of my hand, but she was right. People were gazing at me as they made their way past us, and I put my head down in order to avoid the stares. In fact, the only person who seemed to be getting as much attention as me was Sian. Parry Parker and Malty gaped at Sian and I one at a time, and neither of them had anything unpleasant to say to either of us as they walked past. Unlike me, however, Sian kept her head held high and looked straight ahead of her as she walked, and from the way she was holding on to Kopa's arm, it appeared that she was needing comfort from him. The reason she kept her head up had nothing to do with her beauty or her pride; no, she kept her head up because she was proud and happy to be seen next to Kopa, even if his face was covered by cloths (just so you know, I was proud and happy to be seen next to Chris, but I just wanted to avoid all the eyes).

Anyhoo, once everyone was seated in the Hall, Professor Darbus told us Champions and our partners to get in line in our pairs, and follow her. We did so, and everyone in the Great Hall applauded as we entered and started walking up towards a large and round table at the top of the Hall, where the judges sat.

The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The house tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.

I concentrated on not tripping over my feet, as Chris helped supporting me, which helped to put me at ease slightly, and made me feel more comfortable. I lifted my head slightly, waved a little nervously and beamed, as Chris grinned happily. We caught sight of the rest of the Dawsons as we passed; all of them, and their partners, were smiling at us.

Crighton smiled happily as we champions and our partners approached the top table, but I noticed how Kula's eyes narrowed as she watched Outsider and Kestrel approach. Lynn Baxter, in robes of bright purple with large yellow stars, was clapping as enthusiastically as any of the students around us; and Monsieur Legrand, who had changed his usual uniform of black satin robes to those of sky-blue, was applauding us politely. Next to Crighton sat Mr Dawson, in robes of forest green (as he was Crighton's husband, it made sense that he should be there), who was applauding politely, too. I noticed that Mrs Clutch was not there, and when I looked at Mr Dawson, I realised that he was there for another reason that night.

"What's Dad doing here?" Chris hissed in my ear.

"I don't know," I whispered back, "but we'll find out soon enough, don't worry."

When Mr Dawson spotted Chris and I, he pulled out the chair beside him, pointed his finger at the pair of us and beckoned us to him. We glanced at each other, shrugged, and sat down in the chairs next to him.

"Hello, Mr Dawson," I greeted him warmly.

"Hello, indeed, my dear," he greeted me jovially. "You look beautiful tonight, Kiara, and I'm glad to see you on the arm of my son," he added pointedly.

"Thanks, Dad," said Chris, flushing slightly.

"Thank you, sir," I said. "So, what are you doing here?"

"Well, you see, Kiara, seeing as my dear wife here is Headmistress of this place, I, as her _charming_ husband - " I couldn't help but giggle slightly " - had to come to be her partner. But that's not the only reason. I'm also here to stand in for Mrs Clutch tonight."

"Why, Dad, what's wrong with her?" Chris asked.

Mr Dawson sighed and said, "She's not well, I'm afraid. What happened at the Quidditch Friendly has given her a bit of a nasty shock and has worn her down a bit, so she's had to take some time off work. Perdy's covering for her at the moment, though."

"How is Perdy?" I asked him, ignoring Chris' groan at my question.

Mr Dawson chuckled slightly and said, "She's as well as she can be, and is rather enthusiastic about her new position in the Ministry, I can tell you - "

"Why? What's she doing now?"

"Perdy, Kiara, is now Mrs Clutch's personal assistant," said Mr Dawson, "and you can just imagine how she's going about running her department, can't you? When she heard the ball was coming up, she immediately jumped in, saying she would be glad to go and keep an eye on things, saying that an extra eye for authority would go a long way, but the Minister disagreed. She knew I was going as my wife's partner for the night, and therefore said that I was enough. Of course, the Minister asked me if I would take Mrs Clutch's place for the ball a few weeks back, and I readily agreed. Of course Perdy was ... shall we say ... disappointed, but she understands ..."

 **AN: OK, another split chapter. I will complete this for you tomorrow. A couple of things before I go: if you are wondering what Sian's dress looks like, I took inspiration from the 20th Century animated movie _Anastasia_ about the Russian Princess, if I am right, so look at that. Sorry about the description of the dresses, for I really am not good with fashion, but I hope you enjoy my description of them - and yes, I do know that they are not dress robes, but I just wanted them to be different, OK? Oh, and in the next part of this chapter, you will get a glimpse into Crighton's mind, and see how she's been doing, too.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

 **The Yule Ball - Part 2**

 **KIARA**

... I wanted very much to ask Mrs Dawson whether Mrs Clutch had stopped calling Perdy "Fans" yet, but I resisted the temptation. As I glanced at Chris, I reckoned he must have had the same thought as I, for he was grinning rather mischievously. We giggled quietly behind our hands like naughty school children; Mr Dawson glanced at us and a slight smirk crossed his face.

Anyhoo, there was no food on the glittering silver plates, but small menus lying in front of each of them. I picked mine up uncertainly, and looked around - there were no waiters. Crighton, however, looked down at her menu, and then said very clearly to her plate, "Pork chops!"

And pork chops appeared. Getting the idea, the rest of us at that table placed our orders with our plates, too. I looked across at Kestrel, for I thought she would have been talking about H.A.M.E. for Sian's sake. But she wasn't. She was deep in conversation with Kovu Outsider, and hardly seemed to notice what she was eating.

It occurred to me then that I had never actually heard Outsider talk before the ball, but he was certainly talking to Kestrel during that dinner, and very enthusiastically at that. And what was more, that was the first time he wasn't scowling and growling.

"Well, we have a castle also, and as big as this, but not as comfortable, I think," he was telling Kestrel. "We have six floors, and the fires are lit only at night, or if we get any snow; for seeing as we are in Africa, and the sun shines most of the time, making the place very warm, so we don't see the need for fires during the day. The castle is a stunning edifice carved out of the mountainside and shrouded in mist, so that it sometimes appears simply to float in mid-air. The grounds are larger than these, and because of the amount of sunlight we get, we enjoy them immensely. We also have creatures like cheetahs and hyenas coming pretty close to us, but I think there must be something in the mist that keeps them at bay. We get to fly as much as we can, pretty much every day, over the lakes and the trees and the rivers - "

"Now, now, Kovu!" said Kula, with a laugh that didn't reach her cold eyes. "Don't go giving away all of our secrets, now, or your charming friend will know exactly where to find us!"

Crighton smiled, her eyes twinkling. "Ifu, all this secrecy ... one would almost think you didn't want visitors."

"Well, Crighton," said Kula, displaying her yellowing teeth to their fullest extent, "we are all protective of our private domains, are we not? Do we not jealously guard the walls of learning that have been entrusted to us? Are we not right to be proud that we alone honour our school's secrets, and rights to protect them?"

"Oh, I would never dream of assuming I know all Dragon Mort's secrets, Ifu," said Crighton amicably. "Why, only this morning, for instance, I took a wrong turning on the way to the bathroom and found myself in a beautifully proportioned room I had never seen before, which was a magnificent bathroom: many cubicles, many sinks and a rather large bath were in that room. When I went back to investigate the room more closely a few hours later, I discovered that it had vanished. But I must keep an eye out for it. Possibly it is only accessible at five thirty in the morning, or it may only appear at the quarter moon - or when the seeker has an exceptionally full bladder."

I snorted into my plate of goulash, as Mr Dawson turned his laugh into a cough, although I could see his smile as he wiped his mouth. Chris, on the other hand, seemed thoroughly disgusted by the idea of his mother's full bladder, which only made me laugh harder.

Meanwhile, Ferdinand Desjardin was criticising the Dragon Mort decorations to Rita Davis.

"Zis is nothing," he said dismissively, looking around at the sparkling walls of the Great Hall. "At ze Palace of Beauxbatons, we 'ave ice sculptures all around ze Dining Chamber at Chreetsmas. Zey do not melt, of course ... zey are like 'uge statues of diamond, glittering around ze place. And ze food is seemply superb. And we 'ave a chorus of wood-nymphs, 'oo serenade us as we eat. We 'ave none of zis ugly armour in ze 'alls, and eef a poltergeist ever entered into Beauxbatons, she would be expelled like _zat_." He slapped his hand onto the table impatiently.

Rita Davis was watching his talk with a very dazed look on her face, and she kept missing her mouth with her fork. I was under the impression that Davis was too busy staring at Ferdinand to take in a word of what he was saying.

"Absolutely right," she said, slapping her own hand down on the table in imitation of Ferdinand. "Like _that_. Yeah."

I looked around the Hall. Mina was sitting at one of the other staff tables; she was wearing tawny brown dress robes, and gazing at the top table. I saw her giving a small wave and, looking around, I saw Monsieur Legrand return it, his opals glittering in the candlelight.

When all the food had been consumed, Crighton stood up and asked all the students to do the same. Then, at a wave of her wand, the tables zoomed back along the walls, leaving the floor clear, and then she conjured a raised platform into existence along the right-hand wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello and keyboard were set upon it.

The Jinxsters walked gracefully onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause; they were all very fashion-model typed, and were dressed in dark, gothic colours: black, red and purple (I think I also caught a glimpse of blue and green in there, too). The lead singer, who was dressed in purple and had a ruby red bat necklace around her neck, waved and smiled at the crowd; I saw that she had fake plastic Muggle fangs in her mouth, as did the rest of the band. They picked up their instruments, and seeing as I had been so consumed in watching the Jinxsters that I had almost forgotten what was coming, for suddenly, the lanterns on the other had gone out, and that the other Champions and their partners were standing up.

"Kiara, come on!" Chris hissed beside me. "We're supposed to dance!"

That recalled me to my senses. I was so distracted that I almost tripped over my dress, but I quickly caught myself by grabbing Chris' hand as I stood up. The Jinxsters took up a slow, mournful tune; I walked onto the brightly lit dance floor, and that time I kept my head held high, smiling enough and staring straight ahead of me. The next thing I knew, Chris had put his hand on my waist, and was holding my other hand tightly.

Before we go on, I bet you are wondering how Chris' dancing lessons have been coming along, haven't you, dear readers? Well, I am glad to say that he has been getting better. We had been practicing whenever we got the chance, in whatever free classroom we could get into. We had the odd run-in with Weeves, and we had to find somewhere else to practice, but we were mainly found by Sian and Chrissie, and whenever they did find us, I always blushed and looked away, and Chris always looked angry with his sisters, as though they had interrupted something private. Funny thing, though, whenever Sian and Chrissie found Chris and I together, they would have a shared, annoying smile plastered on their faces, which I would not understand until my sixth year. But apart from those problems, Chris and I found ourselves enjoying those dancing sessions. He didn't step on my toes as much and he was keeping his eyes on me and kept my rhythm. I had transformed him from a spider into an eligible dancer!

Anyhoo, it wasn't as bad as I imagined, dancing in Chris' arms that night; I didn't trip up, and Chris' arms and legs weren't jerking all over the place. I kept my eyes locked on his, as Chris spun me around the floor. He never took his eyes off me, not for a second, and his smile was so warm, and his eyes so bright, and he made me feel so safe and comfortable in his arms that I didn't bother looking at anyone else. Anyhoo, after a while, many of the other students had come on to the dancefloor, so that we Champions were no longer the centre of attention. Nikita and her partner - I wasn't paying that much attention to see who it was, dancing nearby, but I could just see out of the corner of my eye that the dance was awkward, for Nikita kept treading on the boy's feet - and Crighton was waltzing with Mr Dawson. She looked happy to be dancing in her husband's arms, and Mr Dawson, who I had never pictured as a "dancing man", was moving rather nicely. Crazy-Head Grumpy was doing an extremely ungainly two-step with Professor Comet, who was nervously avoiding her wooden leg.

"Nice socks, Pride-Lander," Grumpy growled as she passed, one of her magical eyes staring through my dress which, I'm not going to lie, did make me feel rather uncomfortable.

"Oh - yeah, Dokey the house-elf knitted them for me," I said, grinning nervously.

"She's pretty creepy, isn't she?" Chris said absent-mindedly. I stared at him incredulously, and he said, "Oh, come on, Kiara, you know who she is and what she's done as well as I do. Besides, those eyes of hers should not be allowed here. I mean, doesn't privacy mean anything to anyone anymore?" I couldn't argue with him after he said that, so I said nothing.

I heard the final, quivering note of the cello, and The Jinxsters stopped playing, as applause filled the Hall once more. Chris and I danced through another song, which was a much faster, funkier one, before we decided to sit down and get some drinks.

"You know, I am dancing the last dance of the night with you, whether you like it or not," Chris said loudly over the music, as he led me back across the floor, a demanding look in his eyes.

"I'll have to take you up on that then, won't I?" I replied teasingly. We both laughed. We laughed even harder at Tanya and Andrew, who were dancing so exuberantly that people around them were backing away for fear of injury, and over to the table where Chrissie, Ben, Dave and Merida were talking lightly, evidently breathing hard from dancing.

"How's it going?" I asked them, sitting down and opening the Butterbeer Chris passed me.

"Pretty good," said Merida, "but I think Sian's having an even better time out there." She nodded her head in the direction of the dancefloor. I turned my head and saw Sian and Kopa, who were clearly having a good time, judging by the smiles that were on their faces and the way they were looking into each other's eyes.

When the next song had finished, Sian came over and sat down next to Chris. She was a bit pink in the face from dancing and was grinning widely.

"Hi," Chrissie, Merida and I said to her simultaneously. The others just smiled at her presence.

"It's hot, isn't it?" Sian said, fanning herself with her hand. "Kopa's just gone to get some drinks."

"Sian," I said, "I have to ask; how did Kovu end up asking Kestrel to the ball?"

"Oh. Well, Kopa had just asked me, and he told me that his brother - meaning Kovu - was having trouble finding a date. I then told him that Kestrel didn't know who to go with either, so I asked Kopa if he would talk to Kovu about the possibility of him taking Kestrel. Kopa did that, and the next day he told me that Kovu would like to go with her, if I would introduce them. I readily agreed, and later that day, I did just that, and they hit it off. A few days later, Kest told me that she was going to the ball with Kovu."

"Sian, are you sure that Kopa is _really_ into you?" said Chris suddenly.

Sian looked at him, stunned. "What's that supposed to mean, Chris?"

"If you don't know," he said scathingly, "I'm not going to tell you."

Sian continued to stare at him, then across the line, before her eyes came to rest on me. I shrugged, and judging from Chrissie's, Ben's, Dave's and Merida's expressions, they had no idea what he was talking about, either.

Sian then said, "Chris, what - ?"

"Sian, Kopa's from Uagadou!" Chris said sharply. "His brother, Kovu, is competing against Kiara! Against Dragon Mort! You heard what Kiara's parents said about them - "

"Wait, what's this about Kiara's parents?" Merida asked. Chris ignored her.

"You - you're - " Chris was obviously casting around for words strong enough to describe Sian's crime, " _fraternising with the enemy_ , that's what you're doing!"

Sian's mouth fell open.

"don't be so stupid!" she said after a moment. "The _enemy_! Honestly - who, along with Chrissie, was so excited when they saw Kovu arrive? Who, along with Chrissie, wanted his autograph? And which of our sisters has a model of Kovu up in their dormitory?"

Chrissie looked confused at that last statement. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Sian ignored this, as did Chris, who then said, "I s'pose Kopa asked you to come with him while you were both in the library?"

"No, it was in the grounds, actually," said Sian, the pink patches on her cheeks glowing more brightly. "So what?"

"What happened - trying to get him to join _hame_ , were you?" said Chris snidely.

"No, I wasn't! If you really want to know, Kopa and I have been spending a lot of time together over these past couple of months, and we both enjoy spending time with each other. He respects me, treats me like no one else has and - and he makes me feel like I'm someone special ... like I'm someone worth saving ..."

Sian said this quickly, and the blush on her cheeks was quickly turning from pink to red.

"Yeah, well, that's a good story," said Chris nastily.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Obvious, isn't it? He's one of Kula's students, isn't he? He's Outsider's brother, and he knows who you hang around with ... he's trying to get information about Kiara out of you to pass on to Outsider - or get near enough to jump her - "

Sian looked as though Chris had just slapped her. When she next spoke, her voice quivered. "For your information, Rickers, he has asked me about Kiara, and I have told him all that he wanted to know, but - " she said loudly over Chris' exclamation of "Ha!", " - he has told me that he will keep everything I have said about Kiara in strictest confidence - and I never mentioned anything personal about you, Kiara, just so you know," she added, speaking in a much gentler tone to me.

I was a little taken aback by this. "Thanks," was all I could think of to say.

Sian smiled gently at me, but her furious look returned, as Chris said, "Then Kopa's hoping that you'll help his brother find out what his egg means! I suppose the three of you have been putting your heads together during these cosy little library sessions - "

"I'd _never_ help Kovu work out that egg!" said Sian, looking outraged, her eyes burning. " _Never._ How could you say something like that - I want Kiara to win the Tournament. Kiara knows that, don't you, Kiara?"

"You've got a funny way of showing it," sneered Chris.

"This whole Tournament's supposed to be about getting to know foreign wizards and making friends with them!" said Sian shrilly.

People were starting to stare at us.

"Chris," I said quickly, "I haven't got a problem with Sian coming with Kopa, have you, Chrissie?"

"No, I don't," said Chrissie. "I mean, he's a little bit old for you Sian, but apart from that, I'm happy for you!" she added quickly, under her sister's withering gaze.

But Chris ignored us.

"Why don't you go and find Kopa," said Chris, "he'll be wondering where you - "

"Hey!" a voice behind us said. Chris, Sian, Chrissie, Ben, Dave, Merida and I looked round. Kopa was standing behind Sian, holding two drinks. His eyes were hard and cold like two glowing amber jewels, and he was glaring hard at Chris. "I've been hearing some of the stuff you've been saying to Sian, and it's not on! She's never asked me anything about the egg, and yes, I have asked her for information about Kiara, but I've not told Kovu, and I certainly haven't pressed Sian for anything she isn't comfortable telling me, all right! To be honest, your sister is one of the best people I've ever met. She has a brilliant mind, is kind, sweet, funny, has an amazing outlook on life, and makes me see the world differently through her eyes." He said all this to Sian, and Sian was beaming and blushing at his words, along with letting out a nervous giggle. Kopa's eyes sparkled gently at her, before they hardened slightly as he turned to Chrissie. "And there are those that say that age is just a number!" Chrissie just stared at him, dumbstruck. Kopa then turned back to Sian, handed her a drink and said, "Do you want to go somewhere else?"

"I'd love to," Sian replied indignantly, and without saying another word to us, she took Kopa's hand and disappeared through the crowded dancefloor.

I stared after them, thinking of how happy Sian looked with him, and I was happy for her. I was brought back to the present by Chrissie, who said, "Nice going, Chris! Why did you have to go and say things like that to Sian? We all know what she's like. Besides, if she had a bad feeling about Kopa, don't you think she would have stayed away from him from the start?"

Chris looked steadily at Chrissie and said, "I was just trying to be a good brother and look out for her, that's all - "

"We know that, Chris," said Merida, "but we all know how well Sian can take care of herself. She doesn't need you or anyone else to protect her. You know as well as the rest of us do that if you do anything to mess this up for her, Sian will never forgive you, don't her? Just let her experience this, OK? This is a big thing for her, and if you do anything to upset her, you'll be hurting her more than you know."

"They're right, Chris," I said quietly. Chris turned to me, a hard look in his eyes. "Leave her."

Chris looked around, trying to see who agreed with him. None of us did, so he took a deep sigh and put his head in his hands. He was like that for some time, until a voice said, "Made friends with Kovu Outsider's brother, have you, Chris?" which mad ehim raise his head.

Mr Dawson had come over, grinning broadly, and flopped down into Sian's recently vacated seat, pulling out a handkerchief and mopping his brow, which was sweating profusely. "I'm glad to see you're getting along so well. That's what your mother and I like to see. That's the whole point of the Tournament, you know - not the winning - the international magical co-operation!"

"Where's Professor Crighton, Mr Dawson?" I asked him, wondering why his wife wasn't sat next to him.

"Out there, dancing with Professor Comet, Kiara," he said, nodding at the dancefloor. "Just because I'm her husband does not mean that I control all her movements, you know?" he joked, I smiled back, and then looked at the dancefloor.

The top table was empty by this point; Professor Crighton was, indeed, dancing with Professor Comet; Lynn Baxter, with Spud; Monsieur Legrand and Mina were cutting a whole path around the dancefloor as they waltzed through the students, and Kula was nowhere to be seen. When the next song ended, everybody applauded, and I saw Spud kiss Lynn Baxter's hand. She chuckled and beamed at the gesture, before she made her way back through the crowd, at which point Tanya and Geri accosted her.

"What are those two up to now?" Mr Dawson wondered out loud, watching Tanya and Geri closely.

Lynn Baxter shook off Tanya and Geri fairly quickly, however, and, spotting me, waved and came over to our table.

"My nieces haven't been gambling again, have they, Lynn?" Mr Dawson asked quickly, looking rather nervous.

"What? Oh, not at all, not at all!" said Baxter, which made Mr Dawson heave a huge sigh of relief. "No, they were just telling me a bit more about those fake quills of theirs. Wondering if I could advertise them on the marketing. I've promised to keep in touch with a couple of contacts of mine at Whacko's Joke Shop ..."

Mr Dawson's nervous look returned in full at this news. Apparently Tanya and Geri's plans had grown more ambitious from what we heard, if they were hoping to sell to the public.

Baxter opened her mouth to ask me something, but Mr Dawson diverted her. "How do you think the Tournament's going, Lynn? Everyone in our department's quite satisfied from what I've heard - the hitch with the Goblet of fire, yet again - " he glanced at me - "was a little unfortunate, of course, but it seems to have gone very smoothly since, don't you think?"

"Oh, yes," said Baxter cheerfully, "it's all been enormous fun. Have you heard from Perdy how Bea's doing, Matt? It's a shame she couldn't come."

"Mmm," Mr Dawson mumbled, "but Perdy reckons Bea'll be up and about again in no time. She's enjoying her job immensely, you know. Enjoying the responsibility of bossing people around. She's more than happy to take on the work load. She won't stop going on about everything she's had to do ..."

"Let's go for a walk," Chrissie muttered to Chris and I, "get away from the Perdy talk ..."

"Chrissie?" Ben asked suddenly. She turned to face him. Ben's face flushed a little as he said, "Will you have the last dance of the night with me?"

Chrissie beamed. "Of course I will." Ben beamed back at her. Then, pretending that we wanted more drinks, Chris, Chrissie and I left the table, edged around the dancefloor and slipped out into the Entrance Hall. The front doors stood open, and the fluttering fairy lights in the rose garden winked and twinkled as we went down the front steps, where we found ourselves surrounded by bushes, winding ornamental paths, and large stone statues. I could hear splashing water, which sounded like a fountain. Here and there people were sitting on carved benches. Chris, Chrissie and I set off along one of the winding paths through the rose bushes, but we had only gone a short way when we heard an unpleasantly familiar voice.

" ... don't see what there is to fuss about, Ifu."

"Tiana, you cannot pretend this isn't happening!" Kula's voice sounded anxious and hushed, as though keen not to be overheard. "It's been getting clearer and clearer for months; I am becoming seriously concerned, I can't deny it - "

"Then flee," said Triphorm's voice curtly. "Flee. I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Dragon Mort."

Triphorm and Kula came around the corner. Triphorm had her wand out, and was blasting rose bushes apart, her expression most ill-natured. Squeals issued from many of the bushes, and dark shapes emerged from them.

"Ten points from Badger-Stripes, Fawbert!" Triphorm snarled, as a boy ran past her. "And ten points from Raven-Wings, too, Stubbs!" as a girl went rushing after him. "and what are you three doing?" she added, catching sight of Chris, Chrissie and I on the path ahead. Kula, I saw, looked slightly discomposed to see us standing there. Her hand went nervously to her hair, and she began winding a curl around her finger again.

"We were walking," Chris told Triphorm shortly. "Is that such a crime?"

"Keep walking, then!" Triphorm snarled, and she brushed past us, her long red cloak billowing out behind her. Kula hurried after her. Chris, Chrissie and I continued down the path.

"What's got Kula all worried?" Chrissie muttered.

"And since when have she and Triphorm been on first-name terms?" I said slowly.

We had reached a large stone reindeer, over which we could see the sparkling jets of a tall fountain. The shadowy outlines of two enormous people were visible on a stone bench, watching the water in the moonlight. And then I heard Mina speak.

"Momen' I saw yeh, I knew," she was saying in an odd, husky voice.

Chris, Chrissie and I froze. That didn't sound like the sort of scene we ought to have walked in on, somehow ... I looked around, back up the path and saw Ferdinand Desjardin and Rita Davis standing half-concealed in a rose bush nearby. I tapped Chris and Chrissie on the shoulder and jerked my head towards them, meaning that we could easily sneak off that way without being noticed (Ferdinand and Davis looked very busy to me); Chris nodded, but Chrissie, her eyes widening with horror at the sight of Ferdinand, shook her head vigorously, and pulled Chris and I deeper into the shadows behind the reindeer.

"What did you know, Meenah?" said Monsieur Legrand, a distinct purr in his low voice.

This was one conversation I definitely did not want to listen to; I knew Mina would've hated to have been overheard in a situation like this one (I certainly would have done) - if it had been possible, I would have put my fingers in my ears and hummed loudly, but that wasn't really an option. To try and distract myself, I tried to interest myself in a beetle crawling along the stone reindeer's back, but the beetle wasn't interesting enough to block out Mina's next words.

"I jus' knew ... knew you were like me ... was it yer mother or yer father?"

"I - I don't know what you mean, Meenah ..."

"It was my father," said Mina quietly. "He was one o' the last ones in Britain. 'Course, I can' remember him too well ... he left, see. When I was abou' three. He wasn' really the paternal sort. Well ... it's not in their blood, is it? Dunno what happened to him ... might be dead fer all I know ..."

Monsieur Legrand didn't say anything. And I, in spite of myself, took my eyes off the beetle, and looked over the top of the reindeer's antlers, listening ... I had never heard Mina talk about her childhood before then.

"Me mum was broken-hearted when he wen'. Tiny little woman, my mum was. By the time I was six, I could lift her up an' put her on top o' the dresser if she annoyed me. Used to make her laugh ..." Mina's soft voice broke. Monsieur Legrand was listening, motionless, apparently staring at the silvery fountain. "Mum raised me ... but she died, o' course, jus' after I started school. Sorta had ter make me own way after that. Crighton was a real help, mind. Very kind ter me, she was ..."

Mina pulled out a large, spotted silk handkerchief and blew her nose heavily. "So ... anyway ... enough abou' me. What about you? Which side you got it on?"

But Monsieur Legrand had suddenly got to his feet.

"Zis 'as been a lovely evening, Meenah, and I do not wish to ruin it. Besides, it is chilly," he said - but whatever the weather was doing, it was nowhere as cold as his voice. "I will go in now."

"Eh?" said Mina blankly. "No, don' go! I've - I've never met another before!"

"Anuzzer _what_ , precisely?" said Monsieur Legrand, his tone icy.

I wanted to tell Mina that it was best not to answer; I stood there in the shadows, gritting my teeth, hoping against hope she wouldn't - but it was no good.

"Another half-giant, o' course!" said Mina.

"'Ow dare you!" yelled Monsieur Legrand. His voice exploded through the peaceful night air like a fog horn; behind me, I heard Ferdinand and Rita fall out of their rose bush. "I 'ave nevair been more insulted in my life! 'Alf-giant? Moi? I 'ave - I 'ave big bones!"

He stormed away; great multi-coloured swarms of fairies rose into the air as he passed, angrily pushing aside bushes. Mina was still sitting on the bench, staring after him. It was much too dark to make out her expression. Then, after about a minute, she stood up and strode away, not back to the castle, but off out into the dark grounds in the direction of her cabin.

"C'mon," I said very quietly, to Chris and Chrissie. "Let's go ..."

But Chris and Chrissie didn't move.

"What's up?" I said, looking at them.

Chris and Chrissie looked around at me, their expressions very serious indeed.

"Did you know?" Chrissie whispered. "About Mina being half-giant?"

"No," I said, shrugging. "So what?"

I knew immediately from the looks Chris and Chrissie gave me, that I was once again revealing my ignorance of the wizarding world. Seeing as I had not been told that much about the wizarding world growing up, there were many things that wizards took for granted that were revelations to me, but those surprises had become fewer as I moved up the school. At that moment, however, I could tell that most wizards wouldn't have said "So what?" upon finding out that one of their friends had a giant for a father.

"We'll explain inside," said Chris quietly. "C'mon ..."

Ferdinand and Rita Davis had disappeared, probably into a more private clump of bushes, I suspected. Chris, Chrissie and I returned to the Great Hall. Ben, Dave and Merida were still sat together, and Sian was once more dancing with Kopa, and Kestrel was dancing with Outsider. Chris, Chrissie and I sat down together at a table far removed from the dancefloor. As we did so, I noticed something rather odd.

Crighton was sitting alone at one of the tables, and she was looking at the dancefloor, looking rather sad. I didn't take too much notice of her, though, for I had more pressing matters on my mind ...

 **SUSAN CRIGHTON**

She was sat at a table alone, staring miserably at the dancefloor at a couple, but it was the girl she was most interested in; she looked rather familiar to Susan. A few seconds later, and it hit her: that girl was her Sian! She looked so grown-up and beautiful to Crighton, she couldn't believe this was her eldest daughter that she was seeing before her. As she looked even longer at her, Crighton started to notice the boy who she was with, and the way Sian was looking at him. Despite how she felt, Crighton smiled at her daughter's happiness, for Sian deserved it. As Susan looked at the boy even longer, she saw his eyes as he turned. Those eyes were familiar to her, but she couldn't put her finger on where she had seen them. Then, the third time he turned, Crighton realised where she had seen those eyes before, and she smiled at Sian and Kopa, glad that they had found each other at last. Susan then chuckled, remembering what Sian had said about no one ever coming to love her. Then she stopped thinking about it, because it hurt her. Her smile faded, and the warmth and light faded from her eyes, as a small sigh escaped her.

Susan was lonely. She missed Sian terribly. Whenever people came to her office, they told her that she wasn't herself, but Susan merely brushed it off as bad sleep. But the truth was that she missed Sian. She missed her daughter's sense of humour and listening to her strong beliefs, not just her voice. But more than anything, she missed Sian's presence. When Sian had told her that she would be ignoring her until the Tournament was over, Susan thought that her daughter was joking. But no. Sian had been as good as her word. She was a strong person, Susan realised. Stronger than herself. Susan had never felt this lonely, not even during her teen years - but she would not go back to those memories, at least not now. They were far behind her, and she forced herself to stay in the present - and succeeded. But she could not, however, stop a tear from escaping the corner of her eye.

"Susan?" a deep, gentle voice asked, bringing her out of her miserable thoughts. She looked up into the eyes of her husband, who was looking at her with deep concern.

"Matthew," she said, casting him a watery smile, as she wiped her tears away. Matt sat down next to Susan, and put an arm around her. She leaned into him, using his warmth for comfort.

"Susan?" he asked her again, and she leaned back, looking at him. "What's wrong? I don't think I've ever seen you cry before. Tell me what's bothering you."

"Oh, it's just Sian," Susan sniffled. "I take it she wrote to you about our falling out?"

Matthew nodded. "I was shocked when I found out," he said, "but we both know that Sian's always made her own decisions. And we know how good she is; but don't fret, Sue, for you haven't lost our daughter yet, never fear." Susan smiled at him, the warmth returning to her eyes as she kissed him. When they broke apart, Matt glanced around and said, "Speaking of our firstborn ... where is she, anyway?"

Susan nodded to the girl a few yards away, and Matthew did a double-take of the head, for Sian glowed that night in his eyes. Susan saw that his face showed a mixture of shock and amazement as he turned back to face her. Susan giggled at the look on his face.

"Is that _really_ our Siany?" he asked, disbelief evident in every word he spoke.

Susan laughed at his expression. "I know how you feel, Matthew," she said, amusement in her voice, "but yes, that is really Sian."

Matthew let out a low whistle. "I never thought I'd see her like this, you know? Dressed up, all fancy-like ... looking like a Queen of the Stars. She looks so grow-up ..."

"She does, doesn't she?" Susan asked gently. Then it struck the couple, as a sense of horror washed over them as they looked at Sian - and _really_ looked at her. Up until this point, neither Susan nor Matthew had ever given much thought to how much their children were growing, and seeing Sian made them realise not only how fast she and the rest of their breed were growing, but also just how much longer each of their precious jewels would be under their roof, and it filled both of them with a sense of dread that all parents would at one point realise.

Susan and Matthew were both breathing heavily, as the dread washed over them. Matthew was the first to speak. "Our children ... really are growing up ... aren't they?"

Susan looked at him and clutched his hand gently. "Yes, they really are."

He pulled her to him, taking a deep breath as he did so. "I don't think I'm ready to think of them leaving yet, Susan. I'm really not."

Susan, trying to cheer her husband up, said gently, "Well, at least we have a few years yet before that happens, so you still have the chance to play God over their lives for some time yet, my darling."

Matthew laughed heartily at this and pulled his wife closer to him. "Oh, you bet I will," he said, and both husband and wife shared a laugh. Then, after the laughter died, his voice grew more serious, and he said, "What do we do in the meantime, Sue?"

Susan looked up at him, touched his cheek gently and made him look at her. When she saw his gaze, she was taken aback by what she saw, for her husband looked like a lost, scared child. She looked at him steadily, stroked his cheek and said, "We be there for them, and we spend as much time with them as we can - not just with Sian - before they leave our doorstep. But never forget, Matthew," she added quickly, as a pained look crossed his features, "no matter where they go, no matter what they do, we will always be their parents, and they will always be our babies."

Matthew's pained look softened, and he smiled gently and gratefully at his wife. "Thank you, my dear." He then kissed her on top of the head and looked around. After a few moments, Susan felt her husband stiffen. She looked up at him, bewildered as to what could have brought this on, and saw her husband glaring angrily at a spot behind her. Turning around, she saw him glaring at Sian and Kopa, and that's when she cottoned on as to why he was angry. She heaved a great sigh, for she had expected this to happen.

"Susan," Matthew growled, "who is that boy that Sian is dancing with?"

"Matthew," Susan said imploringly, "please calm down."

"Calm down!" her husband practically yelled, making a few people look their way. "How can I - ?"

"Matthew!" Susan yelled over his voice. Matthew immediately fell silent, as Susan regained her composure, and said, "Matt, do you remember the boy from years ago ... who disappeared ..." Matthew looked confused, so Susan proceeded: "The one who we ... you know ..." she said pointedly, nudging her head at Sian and Kopa. Matthew still looked confused, until a few minutes later, he gasped, his face portraying shock as he looked at his wife, who beamed at him.

"That boy ... who's dancing with our Siany ... are you telling me he's ... ?"Susan nodded, delighted at how well things had turned out.

"Well, I never," Matthew chuckled, smiling in delight at his eldest daughter and Kopa. Susan was glad to see that the anger had gone from his face. But concern grew within her again as Matt turned to her and said, with a concerned look on his face, "Are you sure it's him, though, Susan?"

"Positive," she said, and she spoke so confidently when she answered, that Matthew didn't question her about it again. But he did look at her with a devilish grin, as he said, "Now, then. Seeing as it's still Christmas, and you need cheering up, can I have yo for these next few dances?" Susan smiled, nodded and put her hands in his. He grinned even more broadly, as he led her back onto the dancefloor, and husband and wife danced like they had never danced before.

 **KIARA**

"So?" I prompted Chris and Chrissie. "What's the problem with giants?"

"Well, they're ... they're ..." Chrissie struggled for words, "not very nice," she finished lamely.

"Who cares?" I said. "There's nothing wrong with Mina!"

"We know there isn't, Kiara, but ... blimey, no wonder she keeps it quiet," Chris said, shaking his head. "I always thought she'd got in the way of a bad Engorgement Charm when she was a kid or something. Didn't like to mention it ..."

"But what does it matter if her father was a giant?" I said.

"Well ... no one who knows her will care, 'cause they'll know she's not dangerous," said Chrissie slowly. "But ... Kiara, they're just vicious, giants. It's like Mina said, it's in their natures, they're like trolls ... they just like killing, everyone knows that. There aren't any left in Britain now, though."

"What happened to them?"

"Well, they were dying out anyway, and then loads got themselves killed by Aurors. They're supposed to be giants abroad, though ... they hide out in the mountains mostly ..."

"I don't know who Legrand thinks he's kidding," I said, watching Monsieur Legrand sitting at the top table, looking very sombre. "If Mina's half-giant, he definitely is. Big bones ... the only thing that's got bigger bones than him is a dinosaur."

Chris, Chrissie and I spent most of the remainder of the ball discussing giants in our corner, none of us having any intention to dance until the end. I tried not to watch Khan and Georgia; I felt my heart stop beating and my stomach lurch every time I did so.

When the last song of the night was announced, Chris, Chrissie, Ben, Dave, Merida and I took to the floor once more. I smiled in Chris' arms once more, looking into his eyes all throughout the dance; and when The Jinxsters finished playing at midnight, everyone in the Hall gave them a last, loud round of applause, and then we started to wend our way to the Entrance Hall. Many people were expressing the wish that the ball could have gone on longer, but I was perfectly happy to be going to bed; as far as I was concerned, the evening hadn't been that much fun.

Out in the Entrance Hall, Chris, Chrissie and I saw Sian saying goodnight to Kopa before he went back to the Uagadou submarine. When she saw Chris, she gave him a very cold look, and swept back up the marble staircase without speaking. Chris, Chrissie and I followed her, but halfway up the marble staircase, I heard someone calling me.

"Hey - Kiara!"

It was Georgia Diggs. I could see Khan waiting for her in the Entrance Hall below.

"Yeah?" I said coldly, as Georgia ran up the stairs before me.

Georgia looked as though she didn't want to say whatever it was in front of Chris and Chrissie, who shrugged, Chris looking bad-tempered, and Chrissie just looked blankly ahead of her, as they continued up the stairs.

"Listen ..." Georgia lowered her voice as Chris and Chrissie disappeared. "I owe you one for telling me about the dragons. You know that golden egg? Does your wail when you open it?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Well ... take a bath, OK?"

"What?"

"Take a bath, and - er - take the egg with you, and - er - just mull things over in the hot water. Oh, and the hidden thing within the egg will be revealed to you once you've heard the clue properly, which you'll need for the next task. The bath'll help you think ... trust me."

I stared at her.

"Tell you what," Georgia said, "use the Prefects' bathroom. Fourth door to the left of the statue of Brianna the Bewildered on the fifth floor. Password's _Pine-fresh_. Gotta go ... want to say goodnight ..."

She grinned at me again and hurried back down the stairs to Khan.

I walked back to Lion-Heart Tower alone, thinking that the advice that Georgia had given me was very strange. I wondered why a bath would help me work out what the egg meant. I also wondered if Georgia was just pulling my leg and make me look like a fool, so that Khan would like Georgia even more by comparison.

The Fat Lord and his friend Victor were snoozing in his picture over the portrait hole. I had to yell "Fairy Lights!" before I woke them up, and when I did, they were both extremely irritated. I climbed into the common room, and found Sian yelling at Chris with the final word of the night, as Chrissie stood a little away from them, trying to make herself as small as possible, and looking like she really did not want to be there.

"You listen here, Rickers, and you listen to me good!" she yelled at him. "This is my life that we are arguing about, and it's mine to control! You are not our father, Rickers, so therefore who I decide to go out with is entirely my business, so just stay out of it!" Sian then ran up the stairs to the dormitories, slamming the door to the girls' dormitories behind her.

Chris and Chrissie then looked round at me, both of them too stunned to say anything, and Chrissie trembling from head to foot. I'm pretty sure there was nothing Chris could have said that would have been a good argument for what Sian had just said, for she was right. It was her life, Chris was not her father, and Sian had every right to do as she wished with her life, including choosing who she dated.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

 **Peter Meter's Scoop**

 **KIARA**

We all got up late on Boxing Day. The Lion-Heart common room was quieter that morning than it had been, many yawns punctuating the lazy conversations. Sian had put her hair down again. She confessed to me that she hated putting it up, but she only did it on special occasions, while she scratched a purring Lucifer behind the ears.

Chris and Sian seemed to reach an unspoken agreement not to discuss their argument. They were being quite friendly to each other, though oddly formal. Chris, Chrissie and I wasted no time in telling Sian the conversation we had over heard between Monsieur Legrand and Mina, but Sian didn't seem to find the news that Mina was a half-giant nearly as shocking as Chris, Chrissie and I had.

"Well, I thought she must be," she said, shrugging. "I knew she couldn't be pure giant, because they're about twenty feet tall. But honestly, all this hysteria about giants. They can't all be horrible ... it's the same sort of prejudice that people have towards werewolves ... it's just bigotry, isn't it?"

Chris and Chrissie both looked like they would have liked to reply scathingly, but perhaps they wanted to avoid a row with Sian mere hours after the last one, because they contented themselves with shaking their heads disbelievingly while Sian wasn't looking.

It was time to think of the homework we had neglected during the first week of the holidays. We were all feeling flat once Christmas was over - everyone except myself, as it were, for I was starting, once again, to feel slightly nervous.

The trouble was the February the twenty-fifth seemed a lot closer from this side of Christmas, and I hadn't done anything about working out the clue inside the golden egg. I therefore started to take the egg out of my trunk every time I went up to the dormitory, opening it and listening to it intently, hoping that at some point it would start to make sense. I strained to think what the sound reminded me of, apart from thirty musical saws, but I have never heard anything else like it, before or since. I closed the egg, shook it vigorously, and opened it again to see if the sound had changed, but it hadn't. I tried asking the egg questions, shouting over all the wailing, but nothing happened. I even threw the egg across the room - but that didn't work, not that I expected it to, anyway.

I had not forgotten the hint that Georgia had given me, but I wasn't exactly feeling very friendly towards Georgia, so for a time I chose to ignore her help if I could avoid it. In any case, it seemed to me that if Georgia had really wanted to give me a hand, she would have been a lot more explicit. I, Kiara, had told Georgia exactly what was coming in the first task - and Georgia's idea of a fair exchange had been to tell me to take a bath. Well, I didn't need that sort of rubbish help - not from someone who kept walking down corridors hand in hand with Khan, anyway. And so the first day of new term arrived, and I set off to lessons, laden down with books, parchment and quills as usual, but also with the lurking worry of the egg heavy in my stomach, as though I was carrying that around with me, too.

Snow was still thick upon the grounds, and the greenhouse windows were covered in condensation so thick that we couldn't see out of them in Herbology. None of us were looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures much in that weather, though as Chris said, the Crabs would probably warm us up nicely, either by chasing us, dragging us, making sure our feet weren't crushed, or else by blasting off so forcefully that Mina's cabin caught fire.

When we arrived at Mina's cabin, however, we found an elderly wizard with closely cropped grey hair and a very prominent chin standing before her front door.

"Hurry up, now, the bell rang five minutes ago," he barked at us, as we struggled towards him through the snow.

"Who're you?" said Chrissie, staring at him. "Where's Mina?"

"My name is Professor Smutty-Stave," he said briskly, "your temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher."

"Where's Mina?" I repeated loudly.

"She is indisposed," said Professor Smutty-Stave shortly.

Soft and unpleasant laughter reached my ears then. I turned; Dani Malty and the rest of the Snake-Eyes were joining us. "All of them looked gleeful (apart from Rea-Bradley, whose look of glee looked fixed), and none of them looked surprised to see Professor Smutty-Stave.

"This way, please," said Professor Smutty-Stave, and he strode off around the paddock where the huge Beauxbatons horses were shivering. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I followed him, looking over our shoulders at Mina's cabin. All the curtains were closed. I hoped that Mina wasn't alone and ill in there.

"What's wrong with Mina?" I said, hurrying to catch up with Professor Smutty-Stave.

"Never you mind," he said, as though he thought I was being nosy.

"I do mind, though," I said hotly. "What's up with her?"

Professor Smutty-Stave acted as though he couldn't hear me. He led us past the paddock where the Beauxbatons horses were standing, huddled against the cold, and towards a tree on the edge of the Forest, where a large and beautiful unicorn was tethered.

Many of we girls "ooooohed" at the sight of the unicorn.

"Oh, it's so beautiful!" whispered Sarah Rimmer. "How did he get it? They're supposed to be really hard to catch! Not to mention the fact that unicorns prefer women to men!"

The unicorn was so brightly white that it made the snow all around look grey. It was pawing the ground nervously with its golden hooves, and throwing back its horned head.

"Boys, keep back!" barked Professor Smutty-Stave, throwing out an arm and catching me hard in the chest. "They prefer the woman's touch. Girls to the front, and approach with care. Go on, easy does it ..."

So myself, Sian, Chrissie and the rest of the girls of our group walked slowly forwards towards the unicorn, leaving Professor Smutty-Stave, Chris and the boys standing near the paddock fence, watching.

The moment Professor Smutty-Stave was out of earshot, (but that didn't mean we couldn't hear him), I turned to Chrissie. "What d'you reckon's wrong with her? You don't think a Crab - "

"Oh, she hasn't been attacked, Pride-Lander, if that's what you're thinking," said Malty softly. "No, she's just too ashamed to show her big ugly face."

"Dani," I heard Rea-Bradley plead softly to her cousin, "please, don't - "

"Quiet, Keziah," Malty snarled at her cousin, before she turned back to me. I saw Rea-Bradley look crestfallen, before I turned back to Malty.

"What d'you mean?" I said sharply.

Malty put her hand inside the pocket of her robes, and pulled out a folded page of newsprint.

"There you go," she said. "Hate to break it to you, Pride-Lander ..."

She smirked as I snatched the page, unfolded it, and read it, with Chrissie, Zara, Dena and Nikita looking over my shoulder. It was an article topped with a picture of Mina looking extremely shifty.

 _CRIGHTON'S GIANT MISTAKE_

 _Susan Crighton, eccentric Headmistress of Dragon Mort Magical Academy, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments,_ writes Peter Meter, Special Correspondent _. In September of this year, she hired Aoife "Crazy-Head" Grumpy, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, a decision that caused n=many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Grumpy's well-known habit of attacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in her presence. Crazy-Head Grumpy, however, looks responsible and kindly, when sat beside the part-human Crighton employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures._

 _Mina Wickes, who admits to being expelled from Dragon Mort in her third year, has enjoyed the position of gamekeeper at the school ever since, a job secured for her by Crighton. Last year, however, Mina used her mysterious influence over the Headmistress to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates._

 _An alarmingly large and ferocious-looking woman, Mina has been using her new-found authority to terrify the students in her care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Crighton turns a blind eye, Mina had maimed several pupils during a series of lessons which many admit to be "very frightening"._

 _"I was attacked by a Hippogriff, and my friend Veronica Crate got a bad bite off a Flobberworm," says Dani Malty, a fourth-year student. "We all hate Mina, but we're just too scared to say anything."_

 _Mina has no intention of ceasing her campaign of intimidation, however. In conversation with a_ Daily Squabbler _reporter last month, she admitted breeding creatures she has dubbed "Shudder-Ended Crabs", highly dangerous crosses between manticores and fire crabs. The creation of new breeds as magical creatures is, of course, an activity closely observed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Mina, it seems, considers herself to be above such petty restrictions._

 _"I was just having some fun," she says, before hastily changing the subject._

 _As if this were not enough, the_ Daily Squabbler _has now unearthed evidence that Mina is not - as she pretended - a pure-blood witch. She is not in fact, even pure human. Her father, we can exclusively reveal, is none other than Feardorcha, whose whereabouts are currently unknown._

 _Bloodthirsty and brutal, the giants brought themselves to the point of extinction by warring amongst themselves during the eighteenth century. We can reveal the handful that remained and were not part of Lord Voldemort's giant ranks joined She Who Must Not Be Named, and were responsible for some of the worst Muggle-killings of her (at the time) secret reign of terror._

 _While Many of the giants who served She Who Must Not Be Named were killed by Aurors working against the Dark side, Feardorcha was not among them. It is possible that he escaped to one of the giant communities still existing in foreign mountain ranges. If her antics during Care of Magical Creatures lessons are any guide, however, Feardorcha's daughter appears to have inherited his brutal nature._

 _In a bizarre twist, Mina is reputed to have developed a close friendship with the girl who brought about She-You-Know's fall from power - thereby driving Mina's own father, like the rest of She-You-Know's supporters, into hiding. Perhaps Kiara Pride-Lander is unaware of the unpleasant truth about her large best friend - but Susan Crighton surely has a duty to ensure that Kiara Pride-Lander, along with her fellow students, is warned about the dangers of associating with part-giants._

I finished reading and looked up at Chrissie, whose mouth was hanging open.

"How did he find out?" he whispered.

But that wasn't what was bothering me.

"What d'you mean, "we all hate Mina"?" I spat at Malty. "What's this rubbish about her - " I spat at Crate - "getting a bad bite off a Flobberworm? They haven't even got teeth!"

Crate was sniggering, apparently very pleased with herself.

"Well, I think this should put an end to the oaf's teaching career," said Malty, her eyes glinting. "Half-giantess ... and there was me thinking she'd just swallowed a bottle of Skele-Gro when she was young ... none of the mummies and daddies are going to like this at all ... they'll be worried she'll eat their kids, ha, ha ..."

"You - "

"Are you paying attention over there?"

Professor Smutty-Stave's voice carried over to we girls who weren't all clustered around the unicorn and stroking it. I was so angry that the _Daily Squabbler_ article shook in my hands as I turned to stare unseeingly at the unicorn, whose many magical properties Professor Smutty-Stave was enumerating in an even louder voice, so that none of us missed a word he said.

"I hope he stays, that man!" said Perry Party, when the lesson had ended and we were all heading back to the castle for lunch. "That's more what I thought Care of Magical Creatures would be like ... proper creatures like unicorns, not monsters ..."

"What about Mina?" I said angrily, as we went up the steps.

"What about her?" said Perry, as though he couldn't care less about her. "She can still be gamekeeper, can't she?"

"That was a really good lesson," said Sian, as we entered the Great Hall. "I didn't know half the things Professor Smutty-Stave told us about unicorns until today. What did you think, Chris?"

"Well, it's more a shame I didn't get to pet the unicorn," he said, sounding disappointed, "but I have to admit that there were some really interesting facts he told us about uni - "

"Look at this!" I snarled, and I shoved the _Daily Squabbler_ article under Chris' nose.

Chris and Sian read it, and as they did so their mouths fell open, just as Chrissie's had done.

Sian was the first to speak, and her reaction was the same as Chrissie's. "How did that horrible Meter man find out? You don't think Mina _told_ him?"

"No," I said, leading the way over to the Lion-Heart table, and throwing myself into a chair, furious. "She never even told us, did she? I reckon he was so mad she wouldn't give him loads of horrible stuff about me, that he went ferreting around to get back at her."

"Maybe he heard her telling Monsieur Legrand at the ball," said Sian quietly.

"We'd have seen him in the garden!" said Chrissie. "Anyway, he's not supposed to come into the school anymore, Mina said Ma banned him ..."

"Maybe he's got an Invisibility Cloak," I said, loading chicken casserole onto my plate and splashing it everywhere in my anger. "Sort of thing he'd do, isn't it, hide in bushes, listening to people."

"Like you, Chris and Chrissie did, you mean?" said Sian.

"We weren't trying to hear her!" Chris said indignantly. "We didn't have any choice! The dozy mare, talking about her giant father where anyone could have heard her!"

"We've got to go and see her," I said. "This evening, after Divination. Tell her we want her back. You two _do_ want her back, don't you?" I shot at Sian and Chris.

"I - well, I'm not going to pretend it didn't make a nice change, having a proper Care of Magical Creatures lesson for once - but I do want Mina back, of course I do!" Sian added hastily, as Chris nodded his head vigorously at her words, both quailing under my furious stare (and I thought Sian wasn't afraid of anything? Huh ...).

So that evening after dinner, the four of us left the castle once more, and went down through the frozen grounds to Mona's cabin. We knocked, and Gnasher's booming barks answered.

"Mina, it's us!" I shouted, as I pounded on the door. "Open up!"

She didn't answer. We could hear Gnasher scratching at the door, whining, but it didn't open. We hammered on it for ten more minutes; Chrissie even went and banged on one of the windows, but there was no response.

"What's she avoiding us for?" Sian said, when we had finally given up, and were walking back to the school. "She surely doesn't think that we'd care about her being half-giantess?"

But it seemed that Mina did care. We didn't see a sign of her for the next week after that. She didn't appear at the staff table at meal-times, we didn't see her going about her gamekeeping duties in the grounds, and Professor Smutty-Stave continued to take the Care of Magical Creatures classes. Malty was gloating at every possible opportunity about it.

"Missing your half-breed pal?" she kept whispering to me, whenever there was a teacher around, so that she was safe from my retaliation. "Missing the elephant woman?"

There was a Dragsmede weekend halfway through January. Sian was very surprised that I had planned to go.

"I just thought that you'd want to take advantage of the common room being quiet," she said. "Really get to work on that egg."

"Oh, I - I reckon I've got pretty good idea what it's about now," I lied.

"Have you really?" said Sian, looking impressed. "Well done!"

I remember my insides squirming guiltily, but I ignored them. As I recall, I had five weeks to work out that egg clue, after all, and that was ages away as far as I was concerned ... and if I went into Dragsmede, I hoped that I would find Mina there, and get a chance to persuade her to come back.

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I left the castle together one Saturday, and set off through the cold, wet grounds towards the gates. As we passed the Uagadou sub moored on the river, we saw Kovu Outsider emerge onto the top, dressed in nothing but swimming trunks. He was very skinny, but apparently a lot tougher than he looked, because he walked slowly to the edge of the sub, stretched out his arms and dived, right into the river.

"He's mad!" I said, staring at Outsider's dark head, as it bobbed out into the middle of the river. "It must be freezing in there, it's January!"

"Kopa told me that all students at Uagadou are taught to transform into various animals over their time at the school, so they are prepared for any situation," said Sian. "So that must be what he's doing, getting used to the temperature of the water and allowing his mind to concentrate on the animal he can become. Kopa also said that he and Kovu have wanted to see what a British winter looks like for once, so I think this'll be an interesting experience for him - Kovu, I mean."

"Yeah, but there's still the giant squid," said Chris. He didn't sound anxious - if anything, he sounded hopeful. Sian noticed Chris' tone of voice, and frowned at him.

"Kovu and Kopa are really nice, you know," she said. "They're not at all like you'd think, coming from Uagadou. They like it much better here, Kopa told me."

Chris said nothing. He hadn't mentioned Kovu Outsider or Kopa since the ball, but every now and again I saw him scowling, which made me think that he hadn't let it go in his head, but didn't say anything to Sian because he didn't want to get into another row with her.

Just then, Sian gasped. I looked at her and saw that her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright, and a wide, joyous smile was spread across her face, as she looked at Kopa, who was waiting at the gates for her. I should explain here that a few days prior to this one, Kopa had asked Sian on a date, so that she could show him Dragsmede. He said that he had never seen the village before, and, seeing as we students were visiting it, Kopa wondered if Sian would like to spend most of the day there. Sian agreed gladly, and had been smiling brightly about it ever since.

Sian then turned to us, said, "I'll see you at dinner tonight," and ran eagerly to meet Kopa. He seemed to ask her something (the cloth around his mouth fluttered), Sian's head bobbed slightly, and they were off. Don't worry, you'll hear of their date next chapter; but for now, you're sticking with Chris, Chrissie and I, I'm afraid.

And so, Chris, Chrissie and I headed out the gates for Dragsmede. It felt odd to be going without Sian, but I hoped she would be having a good time. Chris, on the other hand, looked grumpy and moody, and Chrissie was watching him anxiously, and I couldn't blame her. I knew that Chris was being protective of his sister, but I also knew that Sian could take care of herself and could date whoever she pleased. Who were we to stand in the way of her happiness? Anyhoo, I kept my eyes open for any sign of Mina all the way down the sloshy High Street, and suggested a visit to the Flying Owls once I had ascertained that Mina was not in any of the shops.

The pub was as crowded as it ever was, but one quick look around at all the tables told me that Mina wasn't there. With a sinking heart, I went up to the bar with Chris and Chrissie, ordered three Butterbeers from Sir Smoothster, and thought gloomily that I might just as well have stayed behind and listened to the wailing egg after all.

"Doesn't she ever go into the office?" Chris whispered suddenly. "Look!"

He pointed into the mirror behind the bar, and I saw Lynn Baxter reflected there, sitting there in a shadowy corner with a bunch of fauns. Baxter was talking very fast in a low voice to the fauns, all of whom had their arms crossed, and were looking rather menacing.

It was indeed odd, I thought, that Baxter was at the Flying Owls on a weekend when there was no Triwizard event, and therefore no judging to be done. I watched Baxter in the mirror. She was looking strained again, quite as strained as she had done that night in the forest before the Death Trail had appeared. But just then Baxter glanced over at the bar, saw me and stood up.

"In a moment, in a moment!" I heard her say brusquely to the fauns, and Baxter hurried through the pub towards me, her girlish grin back in place.

"Kiara!" she said. "How are you? Been hoping to run into you! Everything going all right?"

"Fine, thanks," I said.

"Wonder if I could have a quick, private word with you, Kiara?" said Baxter eagerly. "You couldn't give us a minute, you two, could you?"

"Er - OK," said Chris, and he and Chrissie went off to find a table.

Baxter led me along the bar to the end furthest from Sir Smoothster.

"Well, I'd just thought I'd congratulate you once again on your splendid performance against that Horntail, Kiara," said Baxter. "Really superb."

"Thanks," I said, but I knew this wasn't all Baxter wanted to say, because she could have congratulated me in front of Chris and Chrissie. Baxter didn't seem in any particular rush to spill the beans, though. I saw her glance into the mirror over the bar at the fauns, who were all watching she and I in silence through their bright, slanting eyes.

"Absolute nightmare," said Baxter to me in an undertone, noticing me watching the fauns, too. "Their English isn't too good ... it's like being with all the South Africans at the Quidditch Friendly ... but at least _they_ have a translator with them so I can understand what they're saying, for I don't speak a word of Gobbledegook, I'm afraid to say. Can't speak a single word of it ..."

"What do they want?" I said, noticing how the fauns were still watching Baxter very closely.

"Er - well ..." said Baxter, looking suddenly nervous. "They ... er ... they're looking for Bea Clutch."

"Why are they looking for her here?" I said. "She's at the Ministry in London, isn't she?"

"Er ... as a matter of fact, I've no idea where she is," said Baxter. "She's sort of ... stopped coming to work. Been absent for a couple of weeks now. Young Perdy, her assistant, says she's ill. Apparently, she's been sending instructions in by owl. But would you mind not mentioning that to anyone, Kiara? Because Peter Meter's still poking around everywhere he can, and I'm willing to bet he'd work Bea's illness up into something sinister. Probably say she's gone missing like Bernard Jenkins."

Keeping my composure (for I had to hide all that I knew - or rather, suspected - about Bernard Jenkins), I asked, "Have you heard anything about Bernard Jenkins?"

"No," said Baxter, looking strained again. "I've got people looking, of course ..." (About time, I thought) "and it's all very strange. He definitely arrived in Albania, because he met his second cousin there. And then he left the cousin's house to go south and see an uncle ... and he seems to have vanished without a trace, en route. Blowed if I can see where he's got to ... he doesn't seem the type to elope, for instance ... but still ... what are we doing, talking about fauns and Bernard Jenkins? I really wanted to ask you," she lowered her voice, "how are you getting on with your golden egg?"

"Er ... not bad," I said untruthfully.

Baxter seemed to know I wasn't being honest.

"Listen, Kiara," she said (still in a very low voice), "I feel very sorry about all this ... you were thrown into this Tournament, you didn't volunteer for it ... and if" (her voice was so quiet now, I had to lean in closer to listen) " ... if I can help at all ... a prod in the right direction ... I've taken a liking to you ... the way you got past that dragon! ... Well, just say the word."

I looked up into Baxter's round, rosy face, and wide, baby-blue eyes.

"We're supposed to work out the clues alone, aren't we?" I said, careful not to keep my voice casual, and not sound as though I was accusing the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports of breaking the rules ...

"Well ... well, yes," said Baxter impatiently, "but - come on, Kiara - we all want a Dragon Mort victory, don't we?"

"Have you offered Georgia help?" I said.

The smallest of frowns crossed Baxter's smooth face.

"No, I haven't," she said. "I - well, like I say, I've taken a liking to you. Just thought I'd offer ..."

"Well, thanks," I said, "but I think I'm nearly there with the egg ... couple more days should crack it."

I wasn't entirely sure why I was refusing Baxter's help, except that Baxter was almost a stranger to me, and accepting her assistance felt somehow much more like cheating than asking help from Chris, Sian, Chrissie, my parents or Grandmother Sarabi in my mind.

Baxter looked almost affronted, but couldn't say much more as Tanya and Geri turned up at that moment.

"Hello, Miss Baxter," said Tanya brightly. "Can we buy you a drink?"

"Er ... no," said Baxter, with a last disappointed glance at me, "no thank you, girls ..."

Tanya and Geri looked quite as disappointed as Baxter, who was surveying me as though I had let her down badly.

"Well, I must dash," she said. "Nice seeing you all. Good luck, Kiara."

She hurried out of the pub. The fauns all stood up slowly from their chairs and exited after her. I went to rejoin Chris and Chrissie.

"What do you want?" Chrissie said, the moment I had sat down.

"She offered to help me with the golden egg," I said.

"She shouldn't be doing that!" said Chris, shaking his head. "She's one of the judges! And anyway, you've already worked it out - haven't you?"

"Er ... nearly," I said.

"Well, I don't think Ma would like it if she knew Baxter was trying to persuade you to cheat!" said Chris, who looked deeply disapproving. "I hope she's trying to help Georgia as much."

"She's not, I asked," I said.

"Chris, since when did you become the "new Sian"?" Chrissie asked. "I mean, we already have one of her, we don't need another one!"

I laughed, as Chris said in a pointedly pompous manner that was much unlike his own, "Well, _someone_ has to, seeing as she's not here."

Chrissie shrugged, and said, "All right, then. Anyway, who cares if Diggs is getting help?" I privately agreed with her.

"Those fauns didn't look very friendly," said Chris, sipping his Butterbeer. "What were they doing here?"

"Looking for Clutch, according to Baxter," I said. "She's still ill. Hasn't been into work."

"Maybe Perdy's poisoning her," said Chrissie. "Probably thinks if Clutch snuffs it, she'll be made Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation."

Chris, trying to hide a laugh despite the corners of his mouth twitching, gave Chrissie a particularly serious don't-joke-about-things-like-that look, and said, "Funny, fauns looking for Mrs Clutch ... they'd normally deal with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

"Clutch can speak loads of different languages, though," I said. "Maybe they need someone who can speak with them in their own tongue, rather than have a translator with them."

"Chris, why are you worrying about poor, 'ickle fauns for?" Chrissie asked him. "You know, maybe you and Sian should think of starting up S.P.U.F. or something. Society for the Protection of Ugly Fauns."

"Ha, ha, ha," said Chris sarcastically. "Fauns don't need protection. Haven't you been listening to what Professor Yawn has been telling us about faun rebellions?"

"No," Chrissie and I said together.

"Well, they're quite capable of dealing with wizards," said Chris, sipping more of his Butterbeer. "They're very clever, and are highly resourceful."

"Uh oh," said Chrissie, staring at the door.

Peter Meter had just entered. He was wearing banana-yellow robes that day, and was accompanied by his paunchy photographer. He brought drinks, and he and the photographer made their way through the crowds to a table nearby. Chris, Chrissie and I glared at him as he approached. He was talking very fast and looked very satisfied about something.

" ... didn't seem very keen to talk to us, did she, Basak? Now, why would that be, do you think? And what's she doing with a herd of fauns in tow, anyway? Showing them the sights ... what nonsense ... she always was a bad liar. Reckon something's up? Think we should do a bit of digging? _Disgraced Ex-Head of Sports, Lynn Baxter_ ... snappy start to a sentence, Basak - we just need to find a story to fit it - "

"Trying to ruin someone else's life?" I said loudly.

A few people looked around. Peter Meter's eyes widened behind his jewelled spectacles as he saw who had spoken.

"Kiara!" he said, beaming. "How lovely! Why don't you come and join - ?"

"I wouldn't come near you with a ten-foot broomstick," I said furiously. "What did you do that to Mina for, eh?"

Peter Meter raised his heavily pencilled eyebrows.

"Our readers have the right to know the truth, Kiara, I am merely doing my - "

"Who cares if she's a half-giantess?" I shouted. "There's nothing wrong with her!"

The whole pub had gone very quiet. Sir Smoothster was staring over from behind the bar, apparently oblivious of the fact that the flagon he was filling with mead was overflowing.

Peter Meter's smile flickered very slightly, but he hitched it back almost at once; he snapped open his crocodile-skin satchel, pulled out his Quick-Quotes Quill and said, "How about giving me an interview about the Mina _you_ know, Kiara? The woman behind the muscles? Your unlikely friendship and the reasons behind it. Would you call her a mother substitute?"

Chris stood up very abruptly, his Butterbeer clutched in his hand as though it were a grenade.

"You horrible, pathetic man," he said, through gritted teeth, "you don't care, do you, anything for a story, and anyone will do, won't they? Even Lynn Baxter - "

"Sit down, you stupid little boy, and don't talk about things you don't understand," said Peter Meter coldly, his eyes hardening as they fell on Chris. "I know things about Lynn Baxter that will make your hair curl ..."

"Let's go," said Chris. "C'mon, Kiara - Chrissie ..."

We left; many people were staring at us as we went. I glanced back as we reached the door. Peter Meter's Quick-Quotes Quill was out; it was zooming backwards and forwards over a piece of parchment on the table.

"He'll be after you next, Chris," said Chrissie, in a low and hurried voice as we walked quickly back up the street.

"Let him try!" Chris growled menacingly; he was shaking with rage. "I'll show him! Stupid little boy, am I? Oh, I'll get him back for this, first Kiara, then Mina ..."

"You don't want to go upsetting Peter Meter," said Chrissie nervously. "I'm serious, Chris, he'll dig something up on you - "

"I know our parents read the _Daily Squabbler_ , but I'm sure they won't believe anything he'll say about me, so he can't scare me into hiding my face in shame!" said Chris, who was striding along so fast that it was all Chrissie and I could do to keep up with him. The only other person we had seen this angry was Sian when we had seen her hit Dani Malty and Keziah Rea-Bradley across their faces. "And Mina isn't going to hide anymore!" Chris continued. "She should _never_ have let excuse for a human being upset her! Come _on_!"

Breaking into a run, he led us all the way back up the road, through the gates flanked by winged boars, and up through the grounds to Mina's cabin.

The curtains were still drawn, and we could hear Gnasher barking as we approached.

"Mina!" Chris shouted, pounding on her front door. "Mina, that's enough! We know you're in there! Nobody cares if your dad was a giant, Mina! You can't let that foul Meter man do this to you! Mina, get out here, you're just being - "

The door opened. Chris said, "About t - !" and then stopped, very suddenly, because he had found himself face to face, not with Mina, but with Susan Crighton.

"Good afternoon," she said pleasantly, smiling down at us.

"We - er - we wanted to see Mina," said Chris, in a rather small voice.

"Yes, I assumed as much," said Crighton, her eyes twinkling. "Why don't you come in?"

"Oh ... um ... OK," said Chris.

He, Chrissie and I went into the cabin; Gnasher launched herself upon me the moment I entered, barking madly and trying to lick my ears. I fended Gnasher off, and looked around.

Mina was sitting at her table, where there were two large mugs of tea. She looked a real mess. Her face was blotchy, her eyes swollen, and she had gone to the other extreme where her hair was concerned; instead of it being neat and tied back, it was free and looked like a wig of tangled wire.

"Hi, Mina," I said.

Mina looked up.

"'Lo," she said, in a very hoarse voice.

"More tea, I think," said Crighton, closing the door behind Chris, Chrissie and I, before drawing out her wand and twiddling it; a revolving tea-tray appeared in mid-air, along with a plate of cakes. Crighton magicked the tray onto the table, and we all sat down. There was a slight pause, and then Crighton said, "Did you by any chance hear what my son was shouting, Mina?"

Chris went slightly pink, but Crighton smiled at him, and continued, "Chris, Chrissie and Kiara still seem to want to know you, judging from the way they were attempting to break ... down ... the ... door ..." Crighton finished slowly, as she looked at Chris, Chrissie and I properly for the first time.

"Where's Sian?" she asked, looking quite hurt that Sian wasn't with us.

"She's on a date with Kopa in Dragsmede," I said. Crighton looked shocked, and then she turned her head to the side, her bottom lip trembling and her eyes overly bright. But I didn't have time to think about Crighton's emotional problems. Mina was more important.

"Of course we still want to know you!" I said, staring at Mina. "You don't think that anything that Meter git - sorry, Professor," I added quickly, looking at Crighton.

"I have gone temporarily deaf and have no idea what you said, Kiara," said Crighton, her voice cracking slightly, as she twiddled her thumbs and stared at the ceiling.

"Er - right," I said sheepishly. "I just mean - Mina, how could you think we'd care what that - man - wrote about you?"

Two fat tears leaked out of Mina's beetle-brown eyes and fell slowly down her face.

"Living proof of what I've been telling you, Mina," said Crighton, still looking carefully up at the ceiling. "I have shown you the letters from the countless parents who remember you from their own days here, telling me in no uncertain terms that, if I sacked you, they would have something to say about it - "

"Not all of 'em," said Mina hoarsely. "Not all of 'em wan' me ter stay."

"Really, Mina, if you are holding out for universal popularity, I'm afraid you will be in this cabin for a very long time," said Crighton, her voice strong and normal, looking sternly at Mina. "Not a week has passed, since I became Headmistress of this school, when I haven't had at least one owl complaining about the way I run it. But what should I do? Barricade myself in my study and refuse to talk to anybody?"

"Yeh - yeh're not half-giantess!" said Mina croakily.

"Mina, look at what I've got for relatives!" I said furiously. "Look at the Smiths!"

"An excellent point," said Professor Crighton. "My own sister, Siofra, was persecuted for practicing inappropriate charms on a goat. It was all over the papers, but did Siofra hide? No, she did not! She held her head high and went about her business as usual! Of course, I'm not entirely sure whether she can read, so that may not have been bravery ..."

"Come back and teach, Mina," said Chris quietly, "please come back, we really miss you. And if Sian was here, she'd say the same thing. I'm sure of it."

Mina gulped. More tears leaked out down her cheeks and onto her blouse. Crighton stood up.

"I refuse to accept your resignation, Mina, and I expect you back at work on Monday," she said. "You will join me for breakfast at eight thirty in the Great Hall. No excuses. Good afternoon to you all."

Crighton left the cabin, pausing only to scratch Gnasher's ears. When the door had shut behind her, Mina began to sob into her dustbin-lid-sized hands. Chrissie kept patting her arm, and at last Mina looked up, her eyes very red indeed, and said, "Great woman, Crighton ... great woman ..."

"Yeah, she is," said Chrissie, letting go of Mina's arm. "Can I have one of these cakes, Mina?"

"Help yerself," said Mina, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. "Ar, she's righ', o' course - yeh're all righ' ... I've bin stupid ... my ol' mum woulda bin ashamed o' the way I've bin behavin' ..." More tears leaked out, but she wiped the away more forcefully, and said, "Never shown you a picture of my old mum, have I? Here ..."

Mina got up, went over to her dresser, opened a drawer and pulled out a picture of a short witch with Mina's crinkled brown eyes, beaming as she sat on top of Mina's shoulder. Mina was a good seven or eight feet tall, judging by the apple tree beside her, but her face was young and round - she looked hardly older than eleven.

"Tha' was taken jus' after I got inter Dragon Mort," said Mina croakily. "Mum was dead chuffed ... thought I migh' not be a witch, see, 'cos me dad ... well, anyway. 'Course, I never was great shakes at magic, really ... but at least she never saw me expelled. Died, see, in me second year ...

"Crighton was the one who stuck up for me after Mum went. Got me the gamekeeper job ... trusts people, she does. Gives 'em second chances ... tha's what sets her apar' from other heads, see. She'll accept anyone at Dragon Mort, s'long as they've got the talent. Knows people can turn out OK even if their families weren' ... well ... all tha' respectable. But some don' understand that. There's some who'd always hold it against yeh ... there's some who'd even pretend they just had big bones rather than stand up an' say - I am what I am, an' I'm not ashamed. "Never be ashamed," my ol' mum used ter say, "there's some who'll hold it against you, but they're not worth botherin' with." An' she was right. I've bin an idiot. I'm not botherin' with _him_ no more, I promise yeh that. Big bones ... I'll give him big bones."

Chris, Chrissie and I looked at each other nervously. I would rather have taken fifty Shudder-Ended Crabs for a walk than admit to Mina that Chris, Chrissie and I had overheard her talking to Monsieur Legrand, but Mina was still talking, apparently unaware that she had said anything odd.

"Yeh know wha', Kiara?" she said, looking up from the photograph of her mother, her eyes very bright. "After yer eleventh birthday, Sarabi wrote ter me an' told me that yeh felt like yeh wouldn' fit in, remember? Yeh reminded me a bit o' meself then, with yeh mum an' dad gone - diff'rent circumstances, like, but still - an' yeh weren' sure yeh were really up to it - school, I mean - an' now look at yeh, Kiara! School Champion!"

She looked at me for a moment, and then said, very seriously, "Yeh know what I'd love, Kiara? I'd love yeh ter win, I really would. It'd show 'em all ... yeh don' have ter be pure-blood ter do it. Yeh don' have ter be ashamed of what yeh are. It'd show 'em Crighton's the one who's got it righ', lettin' anyone in as long as they can do magic. How you doin' with that egg, Kiara?"

"Great," I said. "Really great."

Mina's miserable face broke out into a wide, watery smile. "Tha's my girl ... you show 'em, Kiara, you show 'em. Beat 'em all."

Lying to Mina wasn't quite like lying to anyone else. I went back to the castle that afternoon with Chris and Chrissie, unable to banish the image of the happy expression on Mina's face as she had imagined me winning the Tournament. I put these thoughts out of my head as we went into the Great Hall for dinner, and for now, you'll have to say goodbye to me, because the next chapter will focus on Sian and her first date with Kopa.

 **AN: Sorry for being a day late with this chapter, guys, but here it is. I'll have the next one posted on Thursday, so keep an eye out for it. Hope you enjoyed this one.**


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

 **Sian's First Date**

 **SIAN**

When Sian woke up on that Saturday morning, she was filled with a nervous, tingling excitement that ran al the way from her head to her toes, which made her heart flutter and her stomach explode with the flapping of many butterflies, for this was the day of her first ever date. With Kopa. A boy. A boy who actually _liked_ her. She was so excited that she couldn't lie in bed, she had to be active. So she immediately jumped out of bed and ran to her trunk, looking for an outfit to wear. After looking carefully through her clothes, she decided on a pair of black jeans, a lilac top and a woollen blue V-neck jumper and her black ankle boots, the non-high-heeled kind. She didn't need high heeled shoes. She decided against make-up, which she thought was a tool for women who wanted to cover up their insecurities and blemishes. What's the point in that, she thought, when men will see women without make-up anyway at some point? Besides, Sian wasn't a vain person, and Kopa had seen her without make-up many times before, so she let it go (and that's why Sian doesn't wear make-up apart from special occasions and parties). Once she had dressed, she made her way down to the Great Hall with her sisters and Kiara in tow, making sure to keep a cool composure and not scream the school down in her excitement as she went.

Somehow, Sian managed to keep calm and talk to Chris, Kiara and Chrissie normally during breakfast, whilst her mind was screaming for the clock to hurry up. But good things come to those who wait, as they say, and as soon as Sian saw Kopa waiting for her by the gates, her heart beat faster, her palms were sweating and she felt her face blush as everything and everyone around her vanished, and all she saw was him. It was living proof that this was actually happening, that she was going on a date. She was so excited, yet slightly nervous at the prospect of spending the entire day with Kopa in Dragsmede alone together, but was looking forward to it all the same; this was his first time seeing the village after all, and Sian wanted the day to be a special one for both of them, and that they would look back on it in years to come, happily, she hoped. Yes, the thought did scare her slightly, but she was ready for the commitment. So, she quickly said goodbye to Chris, Kiara and Chrissie for the time being, and without saying another word, ran eagerly to meet Kopa.

When she was near enough to him, Sian saw Kopa looking at her with a smile in his eyes that made them sparkle, and it made her heart flutter. As she approached him, she blushed nervously as Kopa's eyes looked over her, and Sian blushed even harder as his eyes sparkled even more.

Once Sian was stood before him, Kopa said to her, "Hi. Shall we go?"

Sian nodded eagerly, and together, she and Kopa walked through the gates in a comfortable silence, both happy to be in each others company to say much. It had been like that between them over the past few months, that when they didn't have anything to say, Sian and Kopa would just sit there in a comfortable silence, just content to be with each other - especially in the library.

After a while though, Sian asked, "So, Kopa, why did you not come here last time?"

"Oh ... well, to be honest, I just didn't feel like going," he said. "I didn't think that there would be anything that would be of any interest to me there. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason," Sian said quickly. "It's just that I would have really liked you to be there last time."

Kopa seemed surprised by this, she saw. "Really?" he asked.

"Well, yeah." Sian brushed her hair back absentmindedly, and said, "I know we had only know each other a short time, and I know we had had that stupid little argument ..." they both looked quickly away from each other, both embarrassed, but Sian quickly recovered and said, "but things between Kiara and Chrissie were ... difficult, let's say."

"You didn't like it, did you, those two falling out?"

Sian looked at him, surprised at how well he read her. She quickly got over it, though, for she shook her head. "No, I didn't. They're both family, and to see them fight made me feel awful. I wanted to get involved, of course, but I knew that the only way the situation was going to resolve itself was if they sorted it out themselves. It was a foolish argument, of course, because Kiara was telling the truth, but still ..."

"Kiara can't have done anything foolish before then, surely?" said Kopa.

"Oh, yeah?" Sian scoffed. "Well, let's see what you say when I tell you this ..." And so, Sian told Kopa all about what happened that fateful Hallowe'en night when she was eleven, and how Chris, Kiara and Chrissie had come to her rescue. She even told him what happened both during and after the Charms class that day. She noticed that as she talked, Kopa was attentive to every word she said, and wasn't just pretending to listen like some guys did.

"So, Kiara _actually_ jumped up on the mountain troll's back, stuck her wand up its nose accidentally" (Sian laughed) "before getting saved by Chrissie, because the troll was trying to whack her with its club?"

Sian giggled, and said, "Yep. Kiara and I have been best friends ever since that moment. And none of us were punished for it, either."

As Sian suspected, Kopa looked shocked at this remark (she could see it in his eyes, after all). "Really? Why?"

"Because I stepped in and told the teachers that were there that I went looking for the troll." Sian was blushing furiously as she said this.

Kopa laughed a little at this, and said, "Well, I never thought I'd see the day when you would lie to a teacher, after everything I know about you."

Sian giggled nervously and said, "I know, me neither. But after all, being punished when you did a good deed, isn't exactly fair, is it?"

Kopa thought about it, bowed his head in recognition, then looked back up at Sian and said, "All right, you've got me there." Sian grinned, knowing that she did, and she and Kopa laughed as they entered Dragsmede.

As they walked, Sian asked, "Kopa, why are you asking about Kiara so much? Why are you so interested in her?"

Kopa looked at Sian, his eyes narrowed in confusion. "Why? Are you jealous?"

"No!" Sian said quickly - too quickly. Kopa looked at her disbelievingly. Sian sighed and said, "All right, maybe I am a little. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm glad that you're getting to know my friends ... it just strikes me as odd that you want to know so much about Kiara when you're spending time with me, that's all. I mean, can you blame me for asking why you want to know so much about Kiara?"

Kopa hesitated, and Sian saw the cogs in his mind turning in his eyes. She waited patiently, wanting to know the answer. At last, Kopa said, "Look, I will tell you, but not right now. It's not that I don't trust you," he said quickly, at the hurt look on Sian's face, "it's just that it's a long story that I don't feel comfortable sharing with you right now, and this is meant to be a good day for us, so let's not ruin it now, OK?" Sian looked into his earnest eyes, and understanding his need for privacy, she nodded. She saw a relieved look in his eyes as they walked down the high Street.

In every shop they entered, Sian loved the look of awe and wonder in his eyes as she showed him all the shops that she normally visited with Chris, Kiara and Chrissie, particularly the Sugarshack. His eyes brightened considerably, and Sian, just to appease him, bought some sweets of his choosing, which they ate together. Sian also saw the way his eyes widened in wonder at the variety of owls in the Post Office "I don't believe I've ever seen so many owls in one place in my life!"). They didn't stay too long in Whacko's Joke Shop, though; Kopa told her that he wasn't really interested in practical jokes, but was interested to see it. Sian then decided that they should go to the Flying Owls for a drink. To her delight, Kopa agreed. They spent most of the afternoon in there, talking and laughing merrily as they sipped their Butterbeers. Then Sian took Kopa to see the Howling House, before they made their way back to Dragon Mort.

As they walked back, Sian decided to ask Kopa a question that had been bugging her for quite some time, but wasn't sure how Kopa would react to it. Well, there's no harm in asking, she reasoned with herself. so Sian took a deep breath for courage, and said, "Kopa, can I ask you something?"

"Sure. What's on your mind?" was all he said.

Sian took another deep, calming breath and said, "Well ... I've noticed the scar that's across your brother's left eye, and - " she stopped suddenly as Kopa winced and pain flashed quickly across his eyes. "I'm sorry," Sian apologised, avoiding his gaze. "I'm just curious about how he got it, that's all. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to ..."

"No, no, it's OK," Kopa said. Sian raised her eyes and looked back at him, seeing the pain still in his eyes that made her heart squeeze painfully, and waited for him to speak. At last, Kopa took a deep breath and said, "This actually began when I was a child, and had just been adopted into the Outsider family. Kovu took a great liking to me immediately, as did his sister, Vitani, who's around your age, I think. But it was the eldest brother, Nuka, who seemed to have a problem with me."

"He was jealous of you?" Sian asked.

Kopa nodded his head sadly. "It appeared as much. Nuka, the brother in question, was five years older than Kovu and I. He was tall, but very scrawny-looking, with sharp little eyes and dishevelled black hair. He wasn't that good-looking, from what I can remember of him. As I recall, from what Kovu told me, Nuka was nice all the time before I came; sharing things, playing nicely with Kovu and Vitani. He was the perfect role model. When I came, though, he changed. He started ignoring us, and only came out of his room at meal times. When school started, Mum got reports that Nuka was hanging round a bad crowd, and was getting into a lot of fights. Mum had hope for him that he would come back to the right side, though, but Dad and the rest of us knew that he wasn't coming back.

"When Kovu and I started school, Nuka and his gang would pick on us often - me more than Kovu, anyway. Kovu always stood up for me, and I was grateful. It was hell for us when Nuka was there, and we were grateful when he left, which wasn't that long ago, now that I think about it.

"That same summer when Nuka had left school, though, we were at home for the holidays, enjoying ourselves, when Nuka went too far. He started tormenting me, and in then end, I lost it. I jumped on him and attacked him. Nuka quickly pushed me off him, stood up and took out his wand. I think he was going to kill me. As I lay there, thinking that I was going to die, Kovu intervened and Nuka swiped him with his wand, leaving a scar across his left eye."

"Oh, my," Sian breathed, shocked at such a story. She knew her life hadn't been a walk in the park, but she never had imagined that Kopa's could have been just as bumpy. "Then what happened?" she said, after a few moments.

"Fortunately enough, Vitani had run to get Mum and Dad, and they saw everything. I think that that was what convinced Mum that Nuka wasn't coming back from the Dark side. She patched Kovu and me up as best she could, then told nuka to get out and never come back. Nuka laughed manically before he went to his room, packed his bags and left. We've never seen him since. Last we heard of him, he married this high security prisoner in Azkaban, which the Ministry was strongly against, but they went through with it, for the prisoner in question had no wand, so she couldn't do that much damage, but they did have Aurors at the ceremony. Apart from that, we know nothing of him. We're all better off without him. you won't tell anyone about this, will you?" he added, looking at Sian with anxious eyes.

"No, of course not," said Sian quickly. "You can put your trust in me to keep this secret for you."

"Good," said Kopa. "I trust you, too, you know." Sian looked at him, surprised that he had said that. She smiled at him in gratitude as they kept walking.

"So," Kopa said, after some time in silence, "what's with the gloves? Why do you never take them off?"

It was Sian's turn to flinch now. She should have known that Kopa was going to ask her that, but she wasn't ready to tell him just yet. She was scared that he would be repulsed by her, and it would break Sian's heart if that happened. She thought to herself of what to tell him - and then she remembered his words from that morning. So she looked at Kopa, who was looking at her, concerned that he had gone too far, and she said, "Tell you what ... you tell me about why you're so interested in Kiara, and why you wear those cloths around your face, and I'll let you know why I have to wear these gloves. Is that OK?" she added nervously, wondering how he'd take this compromise.

Sian saw him thinking once again, and after a while he answered, "OK." Sian nodded and looked at him gratefully, as they carried on walking back to the castle in comfortable silence. After a few minutes, Kopa sighed and said, "You know, I'm really going to miss this place when we leave."

"Leave?" Sian said suddenly, stopping in her tracks, as her heart twinged slightly at the thought of him leaving.

Kopa stopped too and looked at her, confusion evident in his eyes again as he said, "Yes. Once this Tournament is over, Kovu, myself and the rest of our fellow Uagadou students are heading back to Africa. Why is this such news to you? I thought you knew that?"

Sian mentally shook her head and said, "Nothing. I just forgot, that's all. Let's keep moving." She smiled at him as they moved. Sian couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw some disappointment in his eyes, as though he wanted her to reveal something.

As they walked, Sian couldn't believe how stupid she was to forget that Kopa had come from Africa. Truth be told, she had gotten so used to him being at Dragon Mort, that to think of him being away from her was unbelievable. Five and a bit months was all she had with him, and then the parting blow would come. Her heart twinged painfully again just thinking about it.

As Sian was having these thoughts, she and Kopa had arrived back at the castle. When they got back inside, they stood just outside the doors to the Great Hall. Talk and laughter resonated from inside, which meant that dinner was truly underway. Sian and Kopa looked at each other.

"You know, I've really enjoyed today," said Kopa, his eyes shining brightly. "Thank you for such a nice day."

"You're welcome ... and I enjoyed today, too," said Sian, blushing again.

"I'd like to do this again, when the next Dragsmede weekend comes along."

"I'll see what's going on, and ... I'll let you know," Sian said teasingly.

Kopa smiled through his eyes, and Sian knew the goodbye happened when he brushed some of her hair from her face. She was shocked at the burning sensation she felt, but she liked it all the same. She smiled goofily at Kopa, and he seemed to smile back. As he was moving , Sian caught his hand and said, "You know ... the day's not over yet. Do you want to ... sit next to me at dinner?"

Kopa looked a little taken aback, but he nodded and said, "I'd like that." Sian' smile widened as she and Kopa entered the Great Hall together, neither of them noticing the whispers and stares that were following them, or of the realisation that they were holding hands as they walked over to the Lion-Heart table.

 **KIARA**

I sat with Chris, Chrissie, Tanya and Geri at the Lion-Heart table, playing with my food and feeling guilty at lying to Mina. As I was trapped in my gloomy thoughts, I saw Chris and Chrissie glance at the doors to the Great Hall, obviously looking for a sign of Sian.

A few minutes later, Tanya spoke up. "Look who's just come in?" she said teasingly, nodding at the doors. She, Geri, Chris, Chrissie and I looked at the doors, and saw Sian and Kopa coming back from what was evidently a good day in Dragsmede. Before she joined us, we saw Sian talking with Kopa, then he brushed her hair and was about to enter the Great Hall, when Sian caught hold of him and asked him something, which he must have agreed to, because they came walking in together, holding hands, oblivious of the stares and whispers they were getting as they made their way over to us.

"This looks interesting," Geri grinned, as Sian sat down next to me and Kopa sat next to her. They loaded their plates and began eating, sneaking smiles at each other every five seconds or so. Tanya, Geri, Chrissie and I grinned at them - Chris did too. What can I say, their joy was contagious. After a few minutes, they both began to eat one-handed, which meant that they were holding hands under the table.

Once we all had finally finished dinner - Tanya, Geri, Chris, Chrissie and I waited until Sian and Kopa had finished - and we were out in the Entrance Hall, Tanya, Geri, Chris, Chrissie and I watched from the top of the marble staircase as Sian and Kopa said goodnight. They only held hands, but from the way they were looking at each other ... well, let's just say that you could feel the heat from where we were stood. Kopa then slowly let Sian's hands drop and he went out of the front doors and to the Uagadou submarine. Sian watched until her was gone from her sight, and then she started climbing the marble staircase, wearing a silly smile and giggling to herself every so often. Tanya, Geri, Chris, Chrissie and I followed her, leaving her to her thoughts, for we did not want to disturb her when she was so clearly full of happy thoughts.

Once we got to the common room, Tanya and Geri split from us, both sending knowing smiles to Sian, who looked like she was trying to deny what they were telling her, but failed by her mouth twitching slightly. Anyhoo, Tanya and Geri went to see Leah Jones, and Chris, Chrissie and I sat down in our comfy armchairs by the fire.

Before Sian said anything, Chris said, "Sian, I - I'm sorry for all the things I said against you - and Kopa. Can you forgive me?"

Sian looked surprised by Chris' words, but after a few seconds her face broke into a smile as she said, "Of course I forgive you. What brought this on?"

Chris shrugged and said, "I dunno. I think it was just seeing you so happy with him at dinner ... and the way he was looking at you, so ..."

Sian's smile widened, as she said, "Thank you, Rickers. I hope that you'll meet him and try to get to know him?" Chris said he would, and Chrissie and I agreed to that, too, which made Sian even happier.

"So," Sian then said, "how was your day without me? Did anything exciting happen?"

We told Sian everything: how we looked for Mina in all the shops and the Flying Owls; how Lynn Baxter was having people out searching for Bernard Jenkins, and that she had with fauns looking for Mrs Clutch, for she hadn't been into work and was still ill; how Baxter wanted to help me with the egg; how Peter Meter had turned up, tried to ruin Baxter's life and Mina's, before I went on to say that I defended Mina against Meter's harsh treatment of her, and how Meter wanted to interview me about Mina, and how I denied him. Chris then told Sian how he stood against Meter, and what Meter had told him concerning Baxter, before we marched out of the pub and headed straight for Mina's cabin, where Chris banged on her front door, and were let in by Crighton. We then told Sian that we persuaded Mina to come back to work, which she agreed to after being ashamed of herself and wallowing in self-pity all week, before we finished by telling Sian what Mina said about her mum and about her believing that I could win the Tournament.

Sian listened attentively in silence to Chris, Chrissie and I, and as you can imagine, Sian had a lot to say about this.

"Well, quite frankly I'm not surprised that you didn't see Mina in Dragsmede, after we've seen nor heard a peep from her this past week. And as for Baxter, why she has fauns with her to look for Clutch, I do not know - but I am glad that she has people out looking for Bernard Jenkins. I mean, that took her long enough, didn't it? And I don't know why she's pestering you for help, Kiara, but I am glad that you refused her help. She's one of the judges, for crying out loud! She shouldn't be doing that! And as for Meter, well, I am glad that you defended Mina, Kiara - but Chris, you have to be careful around that man. You have no idea what he could write about you, now. You have no idea, Chris, the power that journalists have over the public eye. I'm afraid that you have made a very powerful enemy there, my friend - "

"Hey, I can take care of myself here!" Chris said indignantly. "He doesn't scare me that easily!"

Sian chuckled grimly, and said, "I know you can take care of yourself, Chris, and I know that he doesn't scare you easily, but in circumstances like these, it is best to take caution where wisdom is needed. Anyhoo, I don't know what Meter meant by cornering Baxter, but I'm sure we'll find out what this means at some point. I'm glad that Ma was there to comfort Mina. I may not be on speaking terms with her at the moment, but I am glad of that - just as I am glad to know that Mina's coming back to work, and I'm glad that you three were there with Ma to persuade her. It's good to hear that Mina's proud of who she is and is heeding her mother's words. After all, we should all be proud of who we are, and accept the way we were made. However, I am rather disgruntled about Mina's enthusiasm about you winning the Tournament, Kiara. Don't get me wrong," she added quickly, catching the looks of confusion and indignation on mine, Chris and Chrissie's faces, "I'm glad that she's supporting you, Kiara, but there are two tasks left, and we shouldn't be getting our hopes up so early. Besides," Sian said, brightening up, "you've pretty much got that egg figured out, haven't you, Kiara?"

"Yeah," I said. "'Course I have."

"Atta girl," Sian said, giving me a cheeky wink. I smiled at her, but inside I felt my insides squirm with guilt. the incomprehensible egg weighed more heavily than ever on my conscience that evening, and by the time I got into bed, I had made up my mind - it was time to shelve my pride, and see if Georgia's hint was worth anything.

 **AN: So, here's Sian's first date a day earlier than I had originally intended. I'm sorry it's short, but I wanted to focus more on the emotions and on Kovu's story rather than the sights themselves. Plus, I went through those before in book 3 with Kiara, so I felt it pointless to go through that again. I shall be updating again on Sunday.**


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

 **The Egg and the Eye**

 **KIARA**

As I had no idea how long a bath I would need to work out the secret of the golden egg, I decided to do it at night, when I was able to take as much time as I wanted. Reluctant as I was to accept more favours from Georgia, I also decided to us the Prefects' bathroom; far fewer people were allowed in there, so I found it much less likely to be disturbed in there than if I used one of the ordinary bathrooms.

I planned my excursion carefully, because I had been caught out of bounds by Match the caretaker in the middle of the night once - and only once - before, and I had no desire to repeat the experience. The Invisibility Cloak was, of course, essential, and as an added precaution, I thought I would take the Scallywag Map, which, next to the Cloak, was the most useful aid to rule-breaking I owned. The Map showed the whole of Dragon Mort, including its many shortcuts and secret passageways and, most importantly of all, it revealed the people inside the castle as miniature, labelled dots, moving around the corridors, so that I could be forewarned if somebody was approaching the bathroom.

On Thursday night, (it was some time before the second task, don't ask me the date), I sneaked up to bed, put on the Cloak, crept back downstairs and, just as I had done on the night Mina had shown me the dragons, waited for the portrait hole to open. It was Chrissie who waited outside with Chris that time to give the Fat Lord the password ("Banana fritters"). "Good luck," Chrissie muttered, as Chris followed her into the common room just as I snuck out past them.

I remember feeling awkward as I moved under the Cloak that night, because I had the heavy egg under one arm and the Map in front of my nose in the other. However, the moonlit corridors were empty and silent, and by checking the Map at strategic intervals, I was able to ensure that I didn't run into anyone I wanted to avoid. When I reached the statue of Boris the Bewildered, a lost-looking wizard with his gloves on the wrong hands, I located the right door, leant close to it, and muttered the password, _"Pine-fresh"_ , just as Georgia had told me.

The door creaked open. I slipped inside, bolted the door behind me, and pulled off the Invisibility Cloak, looking around.

My immediate reaction was that it would be worth becoming a Prefect just to be able to use this bathroom. It was softly lit by a splendid candle-filled chandelier, and everything was made of white marble, including what looked like an empty, rectangular swimming pool sunk into the middle of the floor. About a hundred golden taps stood all around the pool's edges, each with a different-coloured jewel set into its handle. There was also a diving board. Long white linen curtains hung at the windows; a large pile of fluffy white towels sat in a corner, and there was a single golden-framed painting on the wall. It featured a blond merman, who was fast asleep on a rock, his long hair fluttering over his face every time he snored.

I put down my Cloak, the egg and the Map, and moved forwards, looking around, my footsteps echoing off the walls. Magnificent though the bathroom was - and quite keen as I was to try out a few of those taps - when I was there I couldn't quite suppress the feeling that Georgia might have been having me on. I wondered how on earth this was supposed to help me solve the mystery of the egg. Nevertheless, I put one of the fluffy towels, the Cloak, the Map and the egg at the side of the swimming-pool-sized bath, then knelt down and turned on a few of the taps.

I could tell at once that they carried different sorts of bubble bath mixed with the water, though it wasn't bubble bath as I had ever experienced it. One tap gushed orange and purple bubbles the size of footballs, another poured out ice-white foam so thick that I thought it would have supported my weight if I'd cared to test it; a third sent heavily perfumed blue clouds hovering over the surface of the water. I amused myself for a while by turning the taps on and off, particularly enjoying the effect of one whose jet bounced off the surface of the water in large arcs. Then, when the deep pool was full of water, foam and bubbles (which took a very short time considering its size), I turned off all the taps, pulled off my dressing-gown, slippers and night-gown, and slid into the water.

It was so deep that my feet barley touched the bottom, and I actually did a couple of lengths before swimming back to the side and treading the water, staring at the egg. Highly enjoyable as it was to swim in hot and foamy water with clouds of different-coloured steam wafting all around me, no stroke of brilliance came to me, no sudden burst of understanding.

I stretched out my arms, lifted the egg in my wet hands and opened it. The wailing, screeching sound filled the bathroom, echoing and reverberating off the marble walls, but it sounded just as incomprehensible as ever, if not more so with all the echoes. I snapped it shut again, worried that the sound would attract Match, wondering whether that hadn't been Georgia's plan - and then, making me jump so badly that I dropped the egg, which clattered away across the bathroom floor, someone spoke.

"I'd try putting it _in_ the water, if I were you."

I had swallowed a considerable amount of bubbles in shock. I stood up, spluttering, and saw the ghost of a very gum-looking boy sitting with his arms crossed across his chest on top of one of the taps. It was Old Moany, who was usually to be heard sobbing in the S-bend of a boys' toilet three floors below.

"Moany!" I said in outrage. "I'm - I'm not wearing anything!"

The foam was so dense that this hardly mattered, but I had a nasty feeling that Moany had been spying on me from out of one of the taps ever since I had arrived.

"I closed my eyes when you got in," he said, blinking at me through his thick spectacles. "You haven't been to see me for _ages_."

"Yeah ... well ..." I said, bending my knees slightly, just to make absolutely sure Moany couldn't see anything but my head, "I'm not supposed to come into your bathroom, am I? It's a boys' one."

"You didn't used to care," said Moany miserably. "You used to be in there all the time."

That was true, though only because Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I had found Moany's out-of-order toilets a convenient place to brew Polyjuice Potion in secret - a forbidden potion which had turned Sian, Chrissie and I into living replicas of Crate, Gabber and Rea-Bradley for an hour, so that we could sneak into the Snake-Eyes common room.

"I got told off for going in there," I said, which was half-true; Perdy had once caught me coming out of Moany's bathroom. "I thought I'd better not come back after that."

"Oh ... I see ..." said Moany, picking at a spot on his chin in a morose sort of way. "Well ... anyway ... I'd try the egg in the water. That's what Georgia Diggs did."

"Have you been spying on her, too?" I said indignantly. "What d'you do, sneak up here in the evenings to watch the Prefects take baths?"

"Sometimes," said Moany, rather slyly, "but I've never come out to speak to anyone before."

"I'm honoured," I said darkly. "You keep your eyes shut!"

I made sure Moany had his glasses well covered before I hoisted myself out of the bath, wrapped a towel firmly around myself and went to get the egg.

Once I was back in the water, Moany peered through his fingers and said, "Go on, then ... open it under the water!"

I lowered the egg beneath the foamy surface, and opened it ... and, that time, it didn't wail. A gurgling song was coming out of it, the words I couldn't distinguish through the water.

"You need to put your head under, too," said Moany, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying bossing me around. "Go on!"

I took a great breath, and slid under the surface - and when I was on the marble bottom of the bubble-filled bath, I heard a chorus of eerie voices singing to me from the open egg in my hands:

 _"Come seek us where our voices sound,_

 _We cannot sing above the ground,_

 _We guard a creature who lurks inside,_

 _And around him are three things you must find;_

 _And while you're searching in his cave, ponder this:_

 _He's taken what you'll surely miss,_

 _An hour long you'll have to look with help from your Guide,_

 _To recover what he took and hid inside,_

 _But past an hour - the prospect's black,_

 _Too late, it's gone, it won't come back."_

I let myself float back upwards and broke the bubbly surface, shaking my hair out of my eyes.

"Hear it?" said Moany.

"Yeah ... "Come seek us where our voices sound" ... and if I need persuading ... hang on, I need to listen again ..." I sank beneath the water.

It took three more underwater renditions of the egg's song before I had it memorised; then I trod the water for a while, thinking hard, while Moany sat and watched me.

"I've got to go and look for people who can't use their voices above the ground ..." I said slowly. "Er ... who could that be?"

"Slow, aren't you?"

I had never seen Old Moany so cheerful, apart from the day when Chris' dose of Polyjuice Potion had given him the hairy face and tail of a cat.

I stared around the bathroom, thinking ... if the voices could only be heard underwater, then it made sense for them to belong to underwater creatures. I ran this theory past Moany, who smirked at me.

"Well, that's what Diggs thought," he said. "She lay there talking to herself for ages about it. Ages and ages ... nearly all the bubbles had gone ..."

"Underwater ..." I said slowly. "Moany ... what lives in that river, apart from the giant squid?"

"Oh, all sorts," he said. "I sometimes go down there ... sometimes don't have any choice, if someone flushes my toilet when I'm not expecting it ..."

Trying not to think about Old Moany zooming down a pipe to the river with the contents of a toilet, I said, "Well, does anything in there have human voices? Hang on - "

My eyes had fallen on the picture of the snoozing merman on the wall. "Moany, there aren't _merpeople_ in there, are there?"

"Oooh, very good," he said, his thick glasses twinkling. "It took Diggs much longer than that! And that was with _him_ awake, too," - Moany jerked his head towards the merman with an expression of great dislike on his glum face - "watching her with his smouldering dark eyes and flashing his fins ..."

"What was that thing about "him" all about? And what about the "hid inside" thing?" I asked, pondering this for several minutes, before I jumped to a suspicion, which I voiced aloud to Moany.

"There are caves for each of the Champions, aren't there? And each one is hiding a creature within that the merpeople are guarding; and we have to find things to help us find the thing we'll miss, won't we?" As I asked each question, Moany nodded eagerly.

"Diggs asked all those questions, too," said Moany. "She also suspected that the caves would be portals that led to another dimension that would be dry, and that the cave would be bewitched from the outside and would have to be opened somehow. It was only then that she discovered the chalk - "

"Chalk?" I asked, looking around wildly. "What chalk?"

"Touch the bottom of the egg," was all Moany said.

Confused, and wondering what Moany was on about, I touched the bottom of the egg, and saw a small slot open up, and a piece of chalk fall out, which didn't start to dissolve in my wet hands. All the pieces were finally starting to put themselves together ...

"That's it, isn't it?" I said excitedly. "The second task's to go find the creature surrounded by merpeople in the river and ... and ..."

But I suddenly realised what I was saying, and I felt the excitement drain out of me as though someone had just pulled a plug in my stomach. I wasn't a very good swimmer; I had never had much practice. My grandmothers had never got me lessons because they didn't think I'd need the chance to swim. A couple of lengths of that bath was all very well, and I knew that I would be inside a cave for some of the second task, but the river was very large and very deep ... and I would have to hold my breath for quite a long time ... and merpeople surely lived at the bottom ...

"Moany," I said slowly, "how am I supposed to _breathe_?"

At this, Moany's eyes filled with sudden tears.

"Tactless!" he muttered, groping in his robes for a handkerchief.

"Oh, Moany," I said quickly, realising what I said and trying to apologise, "I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking - "

"Of course you didn't think about breathing in front of _me_!" he said shrilly, and his voice echoed loudly around the bathroom. "When I can't ... when I haven't ... not for ages ..." He buried his face in his handkerchief and sniffed loudly.

It was then that I remembered how touchy Moany had always been about being dead, but none of the other ghosts I knew made such a fuss about it. "Sorry," I said again. "I didn't mean - I just forgot ..."

"Oh, yes, very easy to forget Moany's dead," said Moany, gulping, looking at me out of swollen eyes. "Nobody missed me, even when I was alive. Took them hours and hours to find my body - I know, I was sitting there, waiting for them. Oliver Hornby came to the bathroom - "Are you in here again, sulking, Moany?" he said. "Because Professor Dipp asked me to look for you - " And then he saw my body ... ooooh, he didn't forget it until his dying day, I made sure of that ... followed him around and reminded him, I did, I remember at his sister's wedding - "

But I wasn't listening; I was thinking about the merpeople's song again. _"He's taken what you'll surely miss."_ That sounded as thought this creature (whatever it was) was going to steal something of mine, something I had to get back. The question was: what were they going to take?

" - and then, of course, he went to the Ministry of Magic to stop me stalking him, so I had to come back here and live in my toilet."

"Good," I said vaguely. "Well, I'm a lot further on than I was ... shut your eyes, will you, I'm getting out."

I retrieved the egg from the bottom of the bath, put the chalk back in the egg, and once the egg was shut, I climbed out, dried myself and pulled on my nightgown, slippers and dressing-gown again.

"Will you come and visit me in my bathroom again sometime?" Old Moany asked mournfully, as I picked up the Invisibility Cloak and the Map.

"Er ... I'll try," I said, though privately thinking the only way I'd visit Moany's bathroom again was if every other toilet in the castle got blocked. "See you, Moany ... thanks for your help."

"Bye, bye," he said gloomily, and as I put on the Invisibility Cloak, I saw him zoom back up the tap.

Out in the dark corridor, I examined the Scallywag's Map to check the coast was still clear. Yes, the dots belonging to Match and Mrs Robbs were safely in their office ... nothing else seemed to be moving apart from Weeves, who was bouncing around the trophy room on the floor above ... I had taken my first step back towards Lion-Heart Tower, when something else on the Map caught my eye ... something distinctly odd.

Weeves was not the only thing that was moving. A single dot was flitting around a room in the bottom left-hand corner - Triphorm's office. But the dot wasn't labelled "Tiana Triphorm" ... it was Beatrice Clutch.

I stared at the dot. Mrs Clutch was supposed to be too ill to go to work or to come to the Yule Ball - so what was she doing, sneaking into Dragon Mort at one o'clock in the morning? I watched closely as the dot moved round and round the room, pausing here and there ...

I hesitated, thinking ... and then my curiosity got the better of me. I turned, and set off in the opposite direction, towards the nearest staircase. I was going to see what Clutch was up to.

I walked down the stairs as quietly as possible, though the faces in some of the portraits still turned curiously at the squeak of a floorboard, the rustle of my nightgown. I crept along the corridor below, pushed aside a tapestry about halfway along and proceeded down a narrower staircase, a shortcut that took me down two floors. I kept glancing down at the Map, wondering ... it just didn't seem in character, somehow, for correct, law-abiding Mrs Clutch to be sneaking around somebody else's office this late at night ...

And then, halfway down the staircase, not even thinking about what I was doing, not even concentrating on anything but the peculiar behaviour of Mrs Clutch, my leg suddenly sank right through the trick step Nikita always forgot to jump. I gave an ungainly wobble, and the golden egg, still damp from the bath, slipped from under my arm - I reached forwards to try and catch it, but too late; the egg fell down the staircase with a bang as loud as a bass drum on every step - the Invisibility Cloak slipped - I snatched at it, and the Scallywag's Map fluttered out of my hand, and slid down six stairs, where, sunk in the step to above my knee, I couldn't reach it.

The golden egg fell through the tapestry at the bottom of the staircase, burst open and began wailing loudly in the corridor below. I pulled out my wand and struggled to touch the Scallywag's Map, to wipe it blank, but it was too far away to reach (of course it occurs to me now that I could have tried to Summon it, but the egg was shrieking and I was panicking, so do any of you blame me, really?) -

Pulling the Cloak back over myself I straightened up, listening hard, my eyes screwed up with fear ... and, almost immediately -

"WEEVES!"

It was the unmistakeable hunting cry of Match the caretaker. I could hear his rapid, shuffling footsteps coming nearer and nearer, his wheezy voice raised in fury.

"What's this racket? Wake up the whole castle, will you? I'll have you, Weeves, I'll have you, you'll ... and what is this?"

Match's footsteps stopped; there was a chink of metal on metal, and the wailing stopped - Match had picked up the egg and closed it. I stood very still, one leg still jammed tightly in the magical step, listening. At any moment, I thought that Match was going to pull aside the tapestry, expecting to see Weeves ... and there would be no Weeves ... but if he came up the stairs, he would spot the Scallywag's Map ... and, Invisibility Cloak or not, the Map would show "Kiara Pride-Lander" standing exactly where I was.

"Egg?" Match said quietly at the foot of the stairs. "My sweet!" - Mrs Robbs was obviously with him - "This is a Triwizard clue! This belongs to a school Champion!"

I felt sick; my heart was hammering very fast -

"WEEVES!" Match roared gleefully. "You've been stealing!"

He ripped back the tapestry below, and I saw his horrible pouchy face, and bulging pale eyes staring up the dark and (to Match) deserted staircase.

"Hiding, are you?" he said softly. "I'm coming to get you, Weeves ... you've gone and stolen a Triwizard clue, Weeves ... Crighton'll have you out of here for this, you filthy piltering poltergeist ..."

Match started to climb the stairs, his scrawny, dust-coloured cat at his heels. Mrs Robbs' lamp-like eyes, so very like her master's, were fixed directly upon me. I had wondered before this point if the Invisibility Cloak worked on cats, and now was no exception ... sick with apprehension, I watched Match drawing nearer and nearer in his old flannel dressing-gown - I tried desperately to draw my leg free, but it merely sunk a few more inches - at any second, I thought that Match was going to spot the Map or walk right into me -

"Match? What's going on?"

Match stopped a few steps below me, and turned. At the foot of the stairs stood the only person who could've (potentially) made my situation worse - Triphorm. She was wearing a long black nightgown and she looked livid.

"It's Weeves, Professor," Match whispered malevolently. "She threw this egg down the stairs."

Triphorm climbed up the stairs quickly and stopped beside Match. I gritted my teeth, convinced my loudly thumping heart would give me away at any moment ...

"Weeves?" said Triphorm softly, staring at the egg in Match's hands. "But Weeves couldn't get into my office ..."

"The egg was in your office, Professor?"

"Of course not," Triphorm snapped. "I heard banging and wailing - "

"Yes, Professor, that was the egg - "

" - I was coming to investigate - "

" - Weeves threw it, Professor - "

" - and when I passed my office, I saw that the torches were lit and a cupboard door was ajar! Somebody has been searching it!"

"But Weeves couldn't - "

"I know Weeves couldn't, Match!" Triphorm snapped. "I seal my office with a spell none but a wizard could break!"

Triphorm looked up the stairs, straight through me, and then back down into the corridor below. "I want you to come and help me search for the intruder, Match."

"I - yes, Professor - but - "

Match looked yearningly up the stairs, right through me, and I could see that he was very reluctant to forgo the chance of cornering Weeves. _Go_ , I pleaded with him silently, _go with Triphorm_ ... _go_ ... Mrs Robbs was peering around Match's legs ... I had the distinct impression that she could smell me ... oh, I wished I hadn't filled that bath with so much perfumed foam!

"The thing is, Professor," said Match plaintively, "the Headmistress will have to listen to me this time, Weeves has been stealing from a student, it might be my chance to get her thrown out of the castle once and for all - "

"Match, I don't give a damn about that wretched poltergeist, it's my office that's - "

 _Clunk. Clunk. Clunk._

Triphorm stopped talking very abruptly. She and Match both looked down at the foot of the stairs. I saw Crazy-Head Grumpy limp into sight through the narrow gap between their heads. Grumpy was wearing her old travelling cloak over her nightgown, and was leaning on her staff as usual.

"Pyjama party, is it?" she growled up the stairs.

"Professor Triphorm and I heard noises, Professor," said Match at once. "Weeves the poltergeist, throwing things around as usual - and then Professor Triphorm discovered someone had broken into her off - "

"Shut up!" Triphorm hissed to Match.

Grumpy took a step closer to the foot of the stairs. I saw one of Grumpy's magical eyes travel over Triphorm, and then, unmistakeably, onto myself.

My heart gave a horrible jolt. _Grumpy could see through Invisibility Cloaks_ ... she alone could see the full strangeness of the scene ... Triphorm in her nightgown, Match clutching the egg, and I, Kiara, trapped in the stairs behind them. Grumpy's gash of a mouth opened in surprise. For a few seconds, she and I stared straight into each other's eyes. Then Grumpy closed her mouth and turned her blue eyes upon Triphorm again.

"Did I hear that correctly, Triphorm?" she asked softly. "Someone broke into your office?"

"It is unimportant," said Triphorm coldly.

"On the contrary," growled Grumpy, "it is very important. Who'd want to break into your office?"

"A student, I daresay," said Triphorm. I could see a vein flickering horribly on Triphorm's greasy temple. It has happened before. Potion ingredients have gone missing from my private store cupboard ... students attempting illicit mixtures, no doubt ..."

"Reckon they were after potion ingredients, eh?" said Grumpy. "Not hiding anything else in your office, are you?"

I saw the edge of Triphorm's sallow face turn a nasty brick colour, the vein in her temple pulsing more rapidly.

"You know I'm hiding nothing, Grumpy," she said, in a soft and dangerous voice, "as you've searched my office thoroughly yourself."

Grumpy's face twisted into a smile. "Auror's privilege, Triphorm. Crighton told me to keep an eye on - "

"Crighton happens to trust me," said Triphorm through clenched teeth. "I refuse to believe that she gave you orders to search my office!"

"'Course Crighton trusts you," growled Grumpy. "She's a trusting woman, isn't she? Believes in second chances. But me - I say there are spots that don't come off, Triphorm. Spots that never come off, d'you know what I mean?"

Triphorm then did something which I found to be very odd at the time. She seized her left forearm convulsively with her right hand, as though something on it had hurt her.

Grumpy laughed. "Get back to bed, Triphorm."

"You don't have the authority to send me anywhere!" Triphorm hissed, letting go of her arm as though angry with herself. "I have as much right to prowl this school after dark as you do!"

"Prowl away," said Grumpy, but her voice was full of menace. "I look forward to meeting you in a dark corridor sometime ... you've dropped something, by the way ..."

With a stab of horror, I saw Grumpy point at the Scallywag's Map, still lying on the staircase six steps below me. As Triphorm and Match both turned to look at it, I threw caution to the winds; I raised my arms under the Cloak and waved furiously at Grumpy to attract her attention, mouthing, "It's mine! _Mine!_ "

Triphorm had reached out for it, a look of dawning comprehension on her face -

 _Accio parchment!"_

The Map flew up into the air, slipped through Triphorm's outstretched fingers and soared down the stairs into Grumpy's hand.

"My mistake," Grumpy said calmly. "It's mine - must've dropped it earlier - "

But Triphorm's icy-blue eyes were darting from the egg in Match's arms to the Map in Grumpy's hands, and I could tell she was putting two and two together, as only Triphorm could ...

"Pride-Lander," she said quietly.

"What's that?" said Grumpy calmly, folding up the Map and pocketing it.

"Pride-Lander!" Triphorm snarled, and she actually turned her head and stared right at the place where I was, as though she could suddenly see me. "That egg is Pride-Lander's egg. That piece of parchment belong to Pride-Lander. I have seen it before, I recognise it! Pride-Lander is here! Pride-Lander, in her Invisibility Cloak!"

Triphorm stretched out her hands like a blind woman, and began to move up the stairs; I could have sworn her overlarge nostrils were dilating, trying to sniff me out - trapped, I bent backwards, trying to avoid Triphorm's fingertips, but any moment now -

"There's nothing there, Triphorm!" barked Grumpy. "But I'll be happy to tell the Headmistress how quickly your mind jumped to Kiara Pride-Lander!"

"Meaning what?" snarled Triphorm, turning again to look at Grumpy, her hands still outstretched, inches from my chest.

"Meaning that Crighton's very interested to know who's got it in for that girl!" said Grumpy, limping nearer still to the foot of the stairs. "And so am I, Triphorm ... very interested ..." The torchlight flickered across her mangled face, so that the scars, and the chunk missing from her nose, looked deeper and darker than ever.

Triphorm was looking down at Grumpy, and I couldn't see the expression on her face. For a moment, nobody moved or said anything. Then Triphorm slowly lowered her hands.

"I merely thought," said Triphorm, in a voice of forced calm, "that Pride-Lander was wandering around after hours again ... it's an unfortunate habit of hers ... she should be stopped. For - for her own safety."

"Ah, I see," said Grumpy softly. "Got Pride-Lander's best interests at heart, have you?"

There was a pause. Triphorm and Grumpy were still staring at each other. Mrs Robbs gave a loud meow, still peering around Match's legs, looking for the source of my bubble-bath smell.

"I think I will go back to bed," said Triphorm curtly.

"Best idea you've had all night," said Grumpy. "Now, Match, if you'll just give me that egg - "

"No!" said Match, clutching the egg as though it was his first-born son. "Professor Grumpy, this is evidence of Weeves' treachery!"

"It's the property of the Champion she stole it from," said Grumpy. "Hand it over, now."

Triphorm swept downstairs and passed Grumpy without another word. Match made a chirruping noise to Mrs Robbs, who stared blankly at me for a few more seconds before turningand following her master. Still breathing very fast, I heard Triphorm walking away down the corridor; Match handed Grumpy the egg, and disappeared from view too, muttering to Mrs Robbs, "Never mind, my sweet ... we'll see Crighton in the morning ... tell her what Weeves was up to ..."

A door slammed. I was left staring down at Grumpy, who placed her staff on the bottom-most stair, and started to climb laboriously towards me, a small _clunk_ on every other step.

"Close shave, Pride-Lander," she muttered.

"Yeah ... I - er ... thanks," I said weakly.

"What is this thing?" said Grumpy, drawing out the Scallywag's Map out of her pocket and unfolding it.

"Map of Dragon Mort," I said, hoping Grumpy was going to pull me out of the staircase soon; my leg was really hurting me.

"Merlin's beard," Grumpy whispered, staring at the Map, her magical eyes going haywire. "This ... this is some Map, Pride-Lander!"

"Yeah, it's ... quite useful," I said. My eyes were starting to water from the pain. "Er - Professor Grumpy, d'you think you could help me?"

"What? Oh! Yes ... yes, of course ..."

Grumpy took hold of my arms and pulled; my leg came out of the trick step, and I climbed onto the one above it.

Grumpy was still gazing at the Map. "Pride-Lander ..." she said slowly, "you didn't happen, by any chance, to see who broke into Triphorm's office, did you? On this Map, I mean?"

"Er ... yeah, I did ..." I admitted. "It was Mrs Clutch."

Grumpy's magical eyes whizzed over the surface of the Map. She looked suddenly alarmed.

"Clutch?" she said. "You're - you're sure, Pride-Lander?"

"Positive," I said.

"Well, she's not here anymore," said Grumpy, her eyes still whizzing over the Map. "Clutch ... that's very - very interesting ..."

She said nothing for almost a minute, still staring at the Map. I could tell that this news meant something to Grumpy, and I very much wanted to know what it was. I wondered whether I dare ask. Grumpy scared me slightly ... yet Grumpy had just helped me avoid an awful lot of trouble ...

"Er ... Professor Grumpy ... why d'you reckon Mrs Clutch wanted to look around Triphorm's office?"

Grumpy's magical eyes left the Map and fixed, quivering, upon me. It was a penetrating glare, and I had the impression that Grumpy wa sizing me up, wondering whether to answer me or not, or how much to tell me.

"Put it this way, Pride-Lander," Grumpy muttered finally, "they say old Crazy-Head's obsessed with catching Dark wizards ... but Crazy-Head's nothing - _nothing_ \- compared to Beatrice Clutch."

She continued to stare at the Map. I was burning to know more.

"Professor Grumpy," I said again. "D'you think ... could this have anything to do with ... maybe Mrs Clutch thinks there's something going on ..."

"Like what?" said Grumpy sharply.

I wondered how much I dare say. I didn't want Grumpy to guess I had a source of information outside Dragon Mort; that might lead to tricky questions about my parents, and I really didn't want that on my back.

"I don't know," I muttered, "odd stuff's been happening lately, hasn't it? It's been in the _Daily Squabbler_ ... the Death Trail at the Quidditch Friendly, and the Love Destroyers and everything ..."

All six of Grumpy's mismatched eyes widened.

"You're a sharp girl, Pride-Lander," she said. Her magical eyes roved back to the Scallywag's Map. "Clutch could be thinking along those lines," she said slowly. "Very possible ... there have been some funny rumours flying around lately - helped along by Peter Meter, of course. It's making a lot of people nervous, I reckon." A grim smile twisted her lop-sided mouth. "Oh, if there's one thing I hate," she muttered, more to herself than me, and her magical eyes were fixed on the bottom left-hand corner of the Map, "it's a Love Destroyer who walked free ..."

I stared at her. Could Grumpy mean what I thought she mean?

"And now I want to ask _you_ a question, Pride-Lander," said Grumpy, in a more business-like tone.

My heart sank; I had thought this was coming. Grumpy was going to ask where I had got this Map, which was a very dubious magical object - and the story of how it had fallen into my hands incriminated not only me, but my own mother, Tanya and Geri Fang, and Professor Meers, our last Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Grumpy waved the Map in front of me, and I braced myself -

"Can I borrow this?"

"Oh!" I said. I was very fond of my Map, but on the other hand, I was extremely relieved that Grumpy wasn't asking where I'd got it, and there was no doubt that I owed Grumpy a favour. "Yeah, OK."

"Good girl," growled Grumpy. "I can make good use of this ... this might be _exactly_ what I've been looking for ... right, bed, Pride-Lander, come on, now ..."

We climbed to the top of the stairs together, Grumpy still examining the Map as though it was a treasure the like of which she had never seen before. We walked in silence to the door of Grumpy's office, where she stopped, and looked up at me. "You ever thought of a career as an Auror, Pride-Lander?"

"No," I said, taken aback.

"You want to consider it," said Grumpy, nodding, and looking at me thoughtfully. "Yes, indeed ... and incidentally ... I'm guessing you weren't just taking that egg for a walk tonight?"

"Er - no," I said, grinning. "I've been working out the clue."

Grumpy winked at me, her magical eyes going haywire again. "Nothing like a night-time stroll to give you ideas, Pride-Lander ... see you in the morning ..." She went back into her office, staring down at the Scallywag's Map again, and closed the door behind her.

I walked slowly back to Lion-Heart Tower, lost in thought about Triphorm, and Clutch, and what it all meant ... Why was Clutch pretending to be ill, if she could manage to get to Dragon Mort when she wanted to? What did she think Triphorm was concealing in her office.

And Grumpy thought I, Kiara, ought to be an Auror! Interesting idea ... but as I got quietly into my four-poster ten minutes later, the egg and the Cloak now safely back in my trunk, I somehow thought I'd like to check how scarred the rest of them were, before I chose it as a career. And did I become an Auror? Well, you'll just have to wait and see, won't you?


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

 **The Second Task - Part 1:**

 **Into the Red River**

 **KIARA**

"You said you'd already worked out that egg!" said Sian indignantly.

"Keep your voice down!" I said crossly. "I just need to - sort of fine-tune it, all right?"

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I were sitting at the very back of the Charms class with a table to ourselves. We were supposed to be practicing the opposite of the Summoning Charm that day - the Banishing Charm. Owing to the potential for nasty accidents when objects kept flying across the room, Professor Winds had given each student a stack of cushions on which to practice, the theory being that these wouldn't hurt anyone of us if we went off target. It was a good theory, but it wasn't working very well. Nikita's aim was so poor that she kept accidentally sending much heavier things flying across the room - Professor Winds for instance.

"Just forget the egg for a minute, all right?" I hissed, as Professor Winds went whizzing resignedly past us, landing on top of a large cabinet. "I'm trying to tell you about Triphorm and Grumpy ..."

Charms was an ideal cover for a private conversation, as everyone else was having far too much fun to pay us any attention. I had been recounting my adventures of the night I uncovered the egg's clue in whispered instalments for the last half an hour.

"Triphorm said Grumpy's searched her office as well?" Chris whispered, his eyes alight with interest, as he Banished a cushion with a sweep of his wand (it soared into the air and brushed the top of Perry's head). "What ... d'you reckon Grumpy's here to keep an eye on Triphorm as well as Kula?"

"Well, I dunno if that's what Crighton asked her to do, but she's definitely doing it," I said, waving my wand without paying much attention, so that my cushion did an odd sort of belly flop off the desk. "Grumpy said Crighton lets Triphorm stay here because she's giving her a second chance or something ..."

"What?" said Chrissie, her eyes widening, her cushion spinning high into the air, ricocheting off the chandelier and dropping heavily onto Winds' desk. "Kiara ... maybe Grumpy thinks _Triphorm_ put your name in the Goblet of Fire!"

"Oh, Chrissie," said Sian, shaking her head sceptically, "we thought Triphorm was trying to kill Kiara before, and it turned out that she was saving Kiara's life, remember?

She Banished a cushion and it flew across the room and landed in the box we were supposed to be aiming at. I looked at Sian, thinking ... it was true that Triphorm had saved my life once, but the odd thing was, Triphorm definitely loathed me, just as she loathed my mother when they had been at school together (and not to mention, after they had left Dragon Mort). Triphorm loved taking points from me, and had certainly never missed an opportunity to give me punishments, or even to suggest that I should be suspended from the school.

"I don't care what Grumpy says," Sian went on, "the Headmistress is not stupid. She was right to trust Mina and Professor Meers, even though loads of people wouldn't have given them jobs, so why shouldn't she be right about Triphorm, even if Triphorm is a bit - "

" - evil," said Chris promptly. "Come on, Sian, why are all these Dark wizard catchers searching her office, then?"

"Why has Mrs Clutch been pretending to be ill?" said Sian, ignoring Chris. "It's a bit funny, isn't it, that she can't manage to come to the Yule Ball, but she can get up here in the middle of the night when she wants to?"

"You don't like Clutch because of that elf, Blinky," said Chrissie, sending a cushion soaring into the window.

"You just want to think Triphorm's up to something," said Sian, sending her cushion zooming straight into the box.

"I just want to know what Triphorm did with her first chance, if she's on her second one," I said grimly, and my cushion, to my very great surprise, flew straight across the room, and landed neatly on top of Sian's.

0000

Obedient to Grandmother Sarabi's and my parents' wishes of hearing anything odd happening at Dragon Mort, I sent them both letters - one by barn owl, and the other by Harold - to them that night, both letters explaining all about Mrs Clutch breaking into Triphorm's office, and Grumpy and Triphorm's conversation. Then I turned my attention in earnest to the most urgent problem facing me; how to survive underwater for a period of time on the twenty-fifth of February, 2008.

Chris and Chrissie both liked the idea of using the Summoning Charm again - I had explained about aqualungs, and Chrissie couldn't see why I shouldn't Summon one from the nearest Muggle town. Chris was going to agree, but Sian was the one who squashed that plan by pointing out that, in the unlikely event that I managed to learn how to operate within the space of around half an hour four example, I was sure to be disqualified for breaking the International Code of Wizarding Secrecy - it was too much to hope that no Muggles would spot an aqualung zooming across the countryside to Dragon Mort.

"Of course, the ideal situation would be for you to Transfigure yourself into a submarine or something," she said. "If only we'd done human Transfiguration already! But I don't think we start that until sixth year, and it can go badly wrong if you don't know what you're doing ..."

"Yeah, I don't fancy walking around with a periscope sticking out of my head," I said. "I s'pose I could always attack someone in front of Grumpy, she might do it for me ..."

"I don't think she'd let you choose what you wanted to be turned into, though," said Sian seriously. "No, I think your best chance is some sort of charm."

And so, whilst thinking that I would soon have had enough of the library to last me a lifetime, I buried myself once more among the dusty volumes, looking for any spell that might enable a human to survive without oxygen. However, though Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I searched through our lunchtimes, evenings and whole weekends - though I asked Professor Darbus for a note of permission to use the Restricted Section, and even asked the irritable, vulture-looking librarian, Mr Pincer, for help - we found nothing whatsoever that would enable me to spend however long a period of time underwater and live to tell the tale.

Familiar flutterings of panic were starting to disturb me by this point, and I was finding it difficult to concentrate in lessons again. the river, which until this point I had always taken for granted as just another feature of the grounds, drew my eyes whenever I was near a classroom window, a great, iron-grey mass of chilly water, whose dark and icy depths were starting to seem as distant as the moon.

Just as it had done before I faced the Horntail, time was slipping by as though somebody had bewitched the clocks to go extra-fast. There was a week to go before February the twenty-fifth (there was still time) ... there were five days to go (I was bound to find something soon) ... three days to go (please let me find something ... _please_ ...)

With two days left, I started to go off food again. The only good thing about breakfast Saturday morning was the return of the barn owl I had sent to my parents, along with Harold, who I had sent to my grandmothers. I pulled off the parchment, unrolled it and read the most shortest letter Grandmother Sarabi had sent me.

 _My dearest Kiara,_

 _I do not know what Mrs Clutch was doing there, nor do I know what the conversation between Grumpy and Triphorm was about, but both of these things do not concern you, so can you please try and stay out of this one, for once? Oh, and as much as I disapprove of you being out of bed after curfew, I'm glad you've got that clue figured out, and I'm glad that you didn't get in trouble for being out of bed after hours. And don't worry about the whole "breathing underwater" thing, for I'm sure you'll figure something out. You always do._

 _I've got to go now, sweety. Sarafina sends you her love, as always. We still want to hear about anything strange happening at the school. Oh, and Sarafina and I both send you luck for the second task._

 _Love,_

 _Grandmother Sarabi_

Feeling disappointed with my grandmothers' reply, I turned my attentions on the barn owl, pulled off the parchment, unrolled it and I saw the shortest letter my parents had ever written me - and certainly not the last.

 _Send the date of next Dragsmede weekend by return owl._

I turned the parchment over and looked at the back, hoping to see something else, but it was blank.

"Weekend after next," whispered Sian, who had read the note over my shoulder. "Here - take my quill and send this owl back straight away."

I scribbled the dates down on the back of my parents' letter, tied it back onto the barn owl's leg, and watched it take flight again. What had I expected to hear from them? Advice on how to breathe underwater? I had been so intent on telling my parents about Triphorm and Grumpy, that I had completely forgotten to mention the egg's clue.

"Why do they want to know when the next Dragsmede weekend is?" said Chris.

"Dunno," I said dully. The momentary happiness that had flared inside me at the sight of the owls had died. "Come on ... let's go down to Mina's."

When we got down there, we saw that Mina had captured two unicorn foals. Unlike full-grown unicorns, they were pure gold. I don't know whether it was because Mina was trying to make up for the Shudder-Ended Crabs, or because there were only two Crabs left, or she was trying to prove she could do anything that Professor Smutty-Stave could do, but I was secretly glad for the change.

"For our nex' lesson," Mina said, when we had asked her about them. She made us tea and set it down for us, along with her infamous rock cakes. We had had enough experiences with Mina's cooking to know that there was a possibility that a tooth or two could be lost if we took a bite, so we passed. "Though' I migh' continue with 'em, seein' as the Crabs are so few now ..." As Mina spoke, Gnasher the boarhound came bounding over to me, and started to drool all over the knees of my robes. I scratched behind her ears as Mina talked, and I could tell that Mina was disappointed by the lack of poisonous fangs that the unicorns had.

"You OK, Kiara?" she said, looking at me concernedly.

"Yeah," I said.

"Jus' nervous, eh?" said Mina.

"Bit," I said.

"Kiara," said Mina, clapping a massive hand on my shoulder, which made me almost smack my head into the table, "I'd've bin worried before I saw yeh take on tha' Horntail, but I know now yeh can do anythin' yeh set yer mind ter. I'm not worried at all. Yeh're goin' ter be fine. Got yer clue worked out, haven' yeh?"

I nodded, but even as I did so, an insane urge t confess that I didn't have any idea how to survive at the bottom of the river for however long a period of time came over me. I looked at Mina - after all, perhaps she had to go into the river sometimes, to deal with the creatures in it? She looked after everything else in the grounds, after all -

"Yeh're goin' ter win," Mina growled, patting my shoulder again, so that I actually did bang my head into the table. "I know it. I can feel it. _Yeh're goin' ter win, Kiara._ "

I just couldn't bring myself to wipe the happy, confident smile off Mina's face. I forced Mina a smile, before I became very interested in my tea, not daring to look at anyone in case Chris, Sian or Chrissie confessed to Mina that I had lied to her during the remainder of our visit. Fortunately for me, however, they did no such thing, for which I was very grateful to them for.

0000

By the evening before the second task, I felt as though I was trapped in a nightmare. I was fully aware that even if, by some miracle, I managed to find a suitable spell, I'd have a real job mastering it overnight. How could I have been so stupid to let this happen? I kept thinking to myself: Why hadn't I got to work on the egg's clue sooner? Not only that, but why had I ever let my mind wander in classes - for what if a teacher had once mentioned how to breathe underwater, and I had stupidly not been paying any attention!

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I sat in the library as the sun set outside, tearing feverishly through page after page of spells, hidden from each other by the massive pile of books on the desk in front of us. My heat gave a huge leap every time I saw the word "water" on a page, but more often than not it was mere "Take two pints of water, half a pound of shredded mandrake and a newt ..."

"I don't reckon it can be done," said Chris' voice flatly from the other side of the table. "There's nothing. _Nothing._ Closest was that thing to dry up puddles and ponds, that Drought Charm, but that was nowhere near powerful enough to drain the river."

"There must be something," Sian muttered, moving a candle closer to her. Her eyes were so tired she was poring over the tiny print of _Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charms_ with her nose about an inch from the page. "They'd never have set a task that was undoable."

"They have," said Chrissie. "Kiara, just go down to the river tomorrow, right, stick your head in, yell at the merpeople to speak to this creature person who they guard to give back whatever He's nicked and see if they chuck it out. Best you can do, girl."

"There's a way of doing it!" said Sian crossly. "There just has to be!"

She was taking the library's lack of useful information on the subject as a personal insult; it had never failed her before this point.

"I know what I should have done," I said, resting, face down, on _Saucy Tricks for Tricky Sorts_. "I should've learnt to be an Animagus like my parents."

"Yeah, you could've turned into a goldfish anytime you wanted!" said Chris.

"Or a frog," Chrissie said, as I yawned. I was absolutely exhausted.

"It takes years to become an Animagus, and then you have to register yourself and everything," said Sian vaguely, now squinting down the index of _Weird Wizarding Dilemmas and Their Solutions_. "Professor Darbus told us, remember ... you've got to register yourself with the Improper Use of Magic Office ... what animal you become, and your markings, so you can't abuse it ..."

"Sian, I was joking," Chris said wearily. "I know Kiara hasn't got a chance of turning into a frog by tomorrow morning ..."

"Oh, this is no use," Sian said, snapping _Weird Dilemmas_ shut. "Who on earth wants to make their nose hair grow into ringlets?"

"I wouldn't mind," said Tanya Fang's voice. "Be a talking point, wouldn't it?"

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I looked up. Tanya and Geri had just emerged from behind some bookshelves.

"What're you two doing here?" Chrissie asked.

"Looking for you, if you must know," said Geri. "Darbus wants to see you, Chrissie. And you alone."

"Why?" she said, looking surprised.

"Dunno ... she was looking a bit grim, though," said Tanya.

"We're supposed to take you down to her office," said Geri.

Chrissie stared at Chris, Sian and I, who were at a loss as to what to say to her. I felt my stomach drop. Was Professor Darbus going to tell Chrissie off? Perhaps she'd noticed how much she, Chris and Sian were helping me, when I ought to have been working out how to do the task alone? But if that were true, then why were Chris and Sian not getting punished along with her?

"I'll see you back in the common room," Chrissie told Chris, Sian and I, as she got up, looking anxious. As she left with Tanya and Geri, I saw Sian watching Chrissie go, with an expression that didn't just show anxiety, but also expressed how much she longed to pull Chrissie back and never let her go. But I knew that Sian wouldn't do that; as much as she loved her sister, she respected Professor Darbus too much.

"Come on, let's keep looking," said Sian, flipping through pages in books once more.

By eight o'clock, Mr Pincer had extinguished all the lamps and came to chivvy Chris, Sian and I out of the library. Struggling under the weight of as many books as we could carry, Chris, Sian and I returned to the Lion-Heart common room, pulled a table into the corner and continued to search. There was nothing in _Madcap Magic for Wacky Warlocks_ ... nothing in _A Guide to Medieval Sorcery_ ... not one mention of underwater exploits in _An Anthology of Eighteenth-Century Charms_ , or in _Dreadful Denizens of the Deep_ , or _Powers You Never Knew You Had and What to do With Them Now You've Wised Up_.

Lucifer crawled into my lap and curled up, purring deeply. the common room emptied slowly around us. People kept wishing me luck for the next morning in cheery, confident voices like Mina's, all of them apparently convinced that I was about to pull off another performance like the one I had managed in the first task. I couldn't answer them, so I just nodded, feeling as though there was a golf-ball stuck in my throat. By ten to midnight, Chris, Sian and I were alone in the room with Lucifer. Chris, Sian and I had searched through all the remaining books, and Sian kept glancing at the portrait hole every five minutes or so, because Chrissie had not come back.

"That's it," I said to Chris and Sian, as I threw the last book aside. "It's over." I banged my head onto the desk as I thought, _You can't do it. You'll just have to go down to the river in the morning and tell the judges ..._

I imagined myself explaining to the judges that I couldn't do the task. I pictured Baxter's look of round-eyed surprised, Kula's satisfied, yellow-toothed smile. I could almost hear Ferdinand Desjardin saying, _"I knew it ... she is too young, she is only a little girl."_ I saw Malty flashing her _PRIDE-LANDER STINKS_ badge at the front of the crowd, and Mina's crestfallen, disbelieving face ...

As I looked up at my friends' faces, I saw that they were both wearing expressions of pity and exhaustion. I was just about to say that we should go to bed, when there came a loud _crack_ in the middle of the room. Chris, Sian and I looked around, and by the fire was Dokey, her eyes wide and staring straight at me.

"Oh, Kiara Pride-Lander, miss!" Dokey squeaked, hurrying towards me. "Thank goodness Dokey managed to catch Kiara Pride-Lander before she went to bed, miss! For Dokey heard something that Kiara Pride-Lander and her friends must know, miss!"

"Tell us what, Dokey?" said Sian, her voice alert, her face tense.

Dokey kept looking at me and said, "Well, Kiara Pride-Lander, miss, Dokey has just overheard Professor Darbus and Professor Grumpy talking about the second task, miss!"

"It's too late, Dokey," I said helplessly. "I'm not doing the task, I don't know how - "

"Kiara Pride-Lander _will_ do the task!" squeaked the elf. "Dokey knows, miss! Kiara Pride-Lander must go into the river and find her Door-son ..."

"Find my what?"

" - and take her Door-son back from the creature that the merpeople are guarding!"

Before I could ask what Dokey meant, Sian shrieked, "They've got Chrissie!"

 _"What?"_ Chris and I said together, both of us in shock, but Dokey just nodded her head solemnly, her bat-like ears flapping.

"Indeed they do, miss," Dokey said, now speaking to Sian, "and Professor Grumpy said that you have something that will help Kiara Pride-Lander breathe underwater, miss!"

Chris and I both looked at Sian, and we saw the confused look on her face as she thought. Then, quite suddenly, a stroke of brilliance must have hit her, for she gasped aloud in delight, her face rid of weariness, before she jumped up and ran up the stairs, before either myself or Chris could say anything.

"I must go now, Kiara Pride-Lander, miss!" Dokey said, grinning toothily, though at that point I had no idea why. "Good luck with the second task, miss!" And with another loud _crack_ , she was gone, just as Sian came hurrying back down the stairs, a small box clenched tightly in her hand.

"I totally forgot about these," said Sian breathlessly, before Chris or I could ask for an explanation. "I was talking to Kopa about them a while back, and I guess Professor Grumpy must have overheard us as we were walking past, because I didn't notice her. These," Sian then said, holding up the box, "are Chewy Breathers."

"Chewy Breathers?" I said.

Sian nodded enthusiastically. "Yes. It's perfectly simple. All you have to do is to chew one as you're getting in the water, and then, once you've chewed it enough, you blow it like you're blowing a piece of bubble-gum, which will then form around your head and will allow you to breathe underwater for as long as you wish. When you come back up to the surface, however, the bubble will withdraw back inside your mouth, and you will be able to eat the sweet. Here," she said, chucking me the box, "you'll need these for yourself and Chrissie tomorrow. Now, come on," she said, stretching, "we all need to sleep. You particularly, Kiara. After all ..." her voice now turned serious, as was her face, which was turned towards me, "you have my sister to find."

0000

I was woken up by Sian the next morning, shaking me awake. I had only gotten a few hours sleep, because I was so nervous about what was going to happen that day. After I had dressed and got the Chewy Breathers, along with my wand and the piece of chalk from the egg, which Sian had reminded me to get, we made our way down to breakfast. I was feeling slightly more confident as I entered the Great Hall that morning than I had done on the morning of the first task, but that was only because I had a little bit more of an idea of what I was doing. I grinned weakly at the cheers from the Lion-Hearts, and most of the Raven-Wings and Badger-Stripes, whilst ignoring the jeers and insults from the Snake-Eyes. I managed to eat something (although my throat wasn't working that well), until Professor Darbus came down from the staff table and told me that the Champions were making their way down to the river. I stood up to follow her, and as I did so, Sian pulled me down and hissed, "Please come back with my sister, Kiara" before she let me go. I gulped nervously, then followed Professor Darbus down to the river.

She asked me whether I was all right, and if I knew what I was doing. I said yes to both, before Professor Darbus went on to say that the merpeople were keeping an eye on the river, and would send word to tell the staff if anything bad had happened whilst we Champions were down there. She then left me by the judges table and went to join the crowd.

The judges filled the table quickly, with Perdy Fang taking Mrs Clutch's place. Georgia Diggs, Ferdinand Desjardin and Outsider were soon standing next to me. the seats that had encircled the dragons' enclosure in November were ranged along the opposite bank of the river which we were stood, rising on stands that were packed to breaking point and reflected on the river below; the babble of the excited and slowly growing crowd started to reach our ears by this point, and we had to wait until the stands were filled before we could dive in.

As the stands were filling the last few people, Lynn Baxter was moving among we Champions, spacing us along the bank at intervals of ten feet. I was on the very end of the line, next to Outsider, who was wearing swimming trunks and was holding his wand ready. Once I was in position I took off my shoes and socks and then drew out the box of Chewy Breathers, and took one of the small, round sweet out, before I put the rest back in the box, put the box back in my pocket with the chalk, and then I drew my wand.

When I stood back up, Baxter moved me a few feet further away from Outsider and whispered, "All right, Kiara? Know what you're going to do?"

"Yeah," I said, looking at her calmly.

Baxter gave my shoulder a quick squeeze, and returned to the judges table; she pointed her wand at her throat as she had done at the Quidditch Friendly, said _"Sonorous!"_ and her voice boomed out across the dark water towards the stands.

"Well, all our Champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. the merpeople are guarding creatures - four of the same creatures that lie in caves, which are holding the things that have been taken from them. They will have a Guide who will give them instructions on how to find the precious thing that our Champions lost. The hour will begin when the first Champion enters their cave, because all of the other caves will light up, which we will know about by sparks shooting out of the water. On the count of three, then. One ... two ... _three_!"

The whistle echoed shrilly in the cold, still air; the stands erupted with cheers and applause; without looking to see what the other Champions were doing, I put the Chewy Breather in my mouth and started chewing as fast as I could, as I took out the chalk and jumped into the water and went underneath its surface.

The water was icy cold, and I had trouble chewing underwater, but I stopped struggling as a big green bubble emerged from my mouth and covered my head. I took a few deep and refreshing breaths, relieved that I could breathe some oxygen, before I moved through the water, slightly dragged down by my robes, but I moved, nonetheless.

Silence pressed upon my ears as I soared over a strange, dark, foggy landscape. I could see everything in front of me quite clearly, so that as I spread through the water new scenes seemed to loom suddenly out of the oncoming darkness: forests of rippling, tangled black weed, wide plains of mud littered with dull, glimmering stones. I swam deeper and deeper, out towards the middle of the river, my eyes wide, staring through the eerily grey-lit water around me to the shadows beyond (through the green bubble around my head), where the water became opaque.

Small fish flickered past me like silver darts. Once or twice I thought I saw something larger moving ahead of me, but when I got nearer, I discovered it to be nothing more than a large, blackened log, or a dense clump of weed. There were no sign of any of the other Champions, merpeople, Chrissie (obviously) - nor, thankfully, the giant squid.

Light green weed stretched ahead of me as far as I could see, two feet deep, like a meadow of very overgrown grass. I stared unblinkingly ahead of me, trying to discern shapes through the gloom ... and then, without warning, something grabbed hold of my ankle.

I twisted my body around and saw a Grindylow, a small, horned water demon, poking out of the weeds, its long fingers clutched tightly around my leg, its pointed fangs bared - I pointed my wand at the Grindylow -

 _"Relashio!"_ I shouted, except that no sound escaped outside the bubble ... I heard my own voice echo inside the bubble, and my wand, instead of sending sparks at the Grindylow, pelted it with what seemed to be a jet of boiling water, for where it struck it, angry red patches appeared on its green skin. I pulled my ankle out of the Grindyloa's grip and swam as fast as I could, occasionally sending more jets of hot water over my shoulder at random; every now and then I felt one of the Grindylows snatch at my feet again, and I kicked out, hard; finally, I felt my feet connect with a hardened skull, and looking back, I saw the dazed Grindylow floating away, cross-eyed, while its fellows shook their fists at me, and sank back into the weed.

I slowed down a little, stowed my wand back inside my robes and looked around, listening again. I turned full-circle in the water, the silence pressing harder than ever against my eardrums. I knew I was deeper in the river by that point, but nothing was moving except the rippling weed.

"How are you getting on?"

I thought I was having a heart attack. I whipped around, and saw Old Moany floating hazily in front of me, gazing at me through his thick pearly glasses.

"Moany!" I tries to shout - but, once again, my own voice reverberated around the bubble, and nothing came out of it. Moany actually giggled.

"You want to try over there!" he said, pointing. "I won't come with you ... I don't like them much, they always chase me when I get too close ..."

I nodded my head once to show him I understood, and set off once more, careful to swim a bit higher over the weed, to avoid anymore Grindylows that might have been lurking there.

I swam on for what at least felt like twenty minutes. I was passing over vast expanses of mud, which swirled murkily as I disturbed the water. Then, at long last, I heard a snatch of haunting mersong.

 _"An hour long you'll have to look,_

 _And recover what he took ..."_

I swam faster, and saw a large rock emerge out of the water ahead. It had paintings of merpeople on it; they were carrying spears and were chasing what looked like the giant squid. I swam on past the rock, following the mersong.

 _" ... He lies in slumber for now, but don't be late,_

 _Lest what He took will soon be on His plate ..."_

A cluster of crude stone dwellings stained with algae loomed suddenly out of the gloom on all sides. Here and there at the dark windows, I saw faces ... faces that bore no resemblance at all to the painting of the merman in the Prefects' bathroom ...

The merpeople had greyish skins and long, wild, dark green hair. Their eyes were yellow, as were their broken teeth, and they wore thick ropes of pebbles around their necks. They leered at me as I swam past; one or two of them emerged from their caves to watch me better, their powerful, silver fishtails beating the water, spears clutched in their hands.

I sped on, staring around, and soon the dwellings became more numerous; there were gardens of weeds around some of them, and I even saw a pet Grindylow tied to a stake outside one door. Merpeople were emerging on all sides now, watching me eagerly, pointing at the giant bubble around my head, talking behind their hands to each other. I sped around a corner, and a very strange sight met my eyes.

A whole crowd of merpeople were standing guard in a circle around four large, arched rocks. Each person was hovering, face-forward, face grim, with a spear clutched firmly in both hands. As I drew nearer to the rocks, I saw that each of them had a different colour of paint on: the first, yellow, the second, blue, the third, brown, and the fourth had a red coloured paint on. The last one, I guessed, was mine, and so I swam towards it; before I could cross, however, I found a merperson blocking my path. It took my hands, saw the chalk in my left hand, nodded and stood back, allowing me to proceed. I passed cautiously, and when I reached my rock, I looked at the other three.

It didn't look like any of the other Champions had arrived yet (or if they had, it was very hard to tell, for the rocks all looked the same), and as I made my way to the rock next to me, I saw a movement of silver out of the corner of my eye and, looking around, I saw that the merpeople had all closed in on me, their spears pointed at me, their eyes flashing, incensed. I then, slowly and cautiously, made my way back to my rock, and the merpeople returned back to their original posts, acting like nothing had just happened.

I then turned my attentions to the rock, and that was when the question hit me: how was I going to get in? The cave, of course, was on the other side, but getting in was the hard part. Somehow, I knew hitting it wasn't going to do anything, so I pulled my wand out again and started shouting a few spells at it. Nothing happened. I was wondering if I should just give up, when I remembered the chalk in my hand. Knowing that it was my last shot, yet slightly doubtful if it would work, I drew a large arch with the chalk, and waited to see what would happen.

To my disbelief, the chalk melted into the rock, and the rock inside where the chalk had touched it, dissolved. I started to swim towards it, but I hadn't even moved a couple of feet when some invisible force from inside the cave drew me forwards, sucking me in. As it did so, the bubble around my head was getting smaller, as it was going back inside my mouth. I struggled against the force drawing me into the cave, but the force was too strong, and the next thing I knew, I was lying on a rough stone floor, coughing and spluttering. I was also, surprisingly, suddenly dry. I stood up, brushing myself off, chewing the Chewy Breather sweet and swallowing it. Lime flavour. Yum!

 **AN: And this ends part 1 of the second task. Part 2 will be posted later on today because I need my sleep.**


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

 **The Second Task - Part 2**

 **Inside the Cave**

 **KIARA**

I then looked around. I was in a dark cave, surrounded by flaming torches. I looked at the doorway to the river, which was black and murky. I tried to get back out, but I couldn't; it seemed that the invisible barrier that brought me inside the cave was not allowing me to leave. I then felt the cave tremble as something shot out of it, which meant that the time limit had begun. After the trembling stopped, I was going to have another go at moving the barrier, when a calm, soothing voice spoke from behind me.

"You will not be able to leave until you complete the task."

I gasped and turned around. There before me stood a witch with pale-blonde hair flooding down her back. she had a long face, pale blue eyes and a warm smile. She was wearing a dress of silver, and she had an ethereal glow around her.

"Who are you?" I asked the strange being.

The woman's smile widened, and she said, "I am your Guide for this task. I am here to help you find what you have lost. Just say the word, and we'll be on our way."

I stared at the Guide for a few moments, before I realised that there was no one else there to help me that I could trust, so I merely said, "Very well, Guide ... lead on."

My Guide turned on her heel and floated off down the cave, with me following behind her. When we turned a corner of the cave, I felt the floor change from stone to wood, which I found odd, for caves don't usually have wooden floors. I followed the Guide to the end of the long passage, which had flaming torches placed around the walls. As bright as it was in there, though, the middle of the room was pitch dark, and I was certain that some sort of ragged, eerie breathing came from the centre. I looked at the Guide when we were beside an iron grate at the end of the passage for further instructions.

"Light the fire," was all she said. Wondering what was going to happen, I pulled out my wand once more, pointed it at the grate and said, _"Incendio!"_ And all at once, the room came alive.

"You have fifty-five minutes remaining to complete the task," my Guide said, as I looked around the room. It was then that I understood why the floor had turned from stone to wood, for I was standing in a large, magnificent chamber, which was covered in red bricks. There was only a few things out of place in this room: the first was that there was a large pile of shoes stacked in a corner; the second, a large table full of food and drink, which was empty - except for the chair at the head of the table, which my Guide and I were stood behind, and this was the third strangest thing about this chamber.

I walked cautiously around the table, careful not to knock anything over, in case I accidentally woke him (for I assumed the creature was a "he") up, and got a look at him. This creature still haunts my nightmares now, for I found him shocking to look at. He was completely naked, and from what I could see, his skin hung off of him and was stretched tightly across his chest and face, like he had lost a lot of weight. There were two little holes for his nose in his head, and his arms were placed either side of a plate, his fingers turning red and then black at the tips, along with his long fingernails, which were dirty white at the tips. Anyhoo, his hands were either side of a plate, as I've already said, and on this plate there was no food. Instead, there were two large, red eyes on it. The creature's mouth wasn't moving, and in case any of you are wondering, yes, the creature was breathing raggedly, and eerily.

"He is sleeping," my Guide said simply from beside me. I didn't know what this creature was, but a feeling of unease had settled around me. The sooner I found Chrissie and got the two of us out of here, the better.

"What is it?" I asked, looking at the creature nervously, as though I was afraid it would attack me at any moment.

"A Paleman," my Guide answered. "There is one for each Champion. This creature is not human, and is also what the merpeople are protecting."

"What does he eat?" I then asked. "I mean, there is plenty of food on the table, but I don't think he's eaten any of it. So what does the Paleman eat?"

"Study the walls around you, child," my Guide said, pointing to the paintings that were hung high over the fireplace. They hold the answers to your questions."

I looked at the portraits, and saw some truly disturbing images that still haunt my mind. Each of them contained the Paleman, and a child - or two, in some of them - and the Paleman was holding a child above his mouth, wanting to eat them. In some of the paintings, it looked like the Paleman ripped off a few limbs off a child, and would eat them before finishing the child off. They were truly horrifying images. I swear that I could hear the screams of the children that had been killed by that monster.

I took a few deep breaths after seeing these images, turned back to my Guide and said slowly, "It doesn't eat the food off the table ... because it eats children ..."

"Children of _what_ , exactly?" my Guide asked pointedly.

I was confused by this, but my eyes were drawn to the pile of shoes in the corner, and I don't know how, but the answer came to me in an instant.

"Innocence," I answered. My Guide nodded solemnly as I looked back at the table, realising what it meant.

"The food is a temptation test for myself and my friend, isn't it? Even before I've rescued her, at any time we're in here, if either of us eat the food, we fail the task, don't we?"

"In a way you do," my Guide said, "but there is a way that I will be able to save you both if you are unlucky, but we'll get to that if the worst happens. Besides, you have your friend to find, and time's ticking, after all"

I agreed to this, for I didn't want to spend much time in the room with the Paleman, so I said to my Guide, "What must I do to complete the task?"

My Guide gave a curt nod, before she said, "In this room, there are three objects that you must find: the first is a key, which you must use the chalk to find; the second, a dagger, which you will find with the key; and the third is your friend, and to get her out of the wall, you will need to use the dagger. You will know when you've found the objects, do not worry," she added, before I could say anything. "After all, these walls have deep magic stored in them. Good luck, Kiara Pride-Lander." And with that, she stood back, and kept her eyes focused on the Paleman.

So, holding the chalk in my hand, I moved to the other end of the chamber, and started moving the chalk up and down the walls, hoping to see a sign. After about ten minutes, I saw a brick glow. I drew an outline around the brick that glowed; the brick dissolved, and I pulled out a long, silver key. I quickly and silently congratulated myself, before I moved on to find the dagger.

I did the same thing with the key as I did with the chalk. I kept moving anti-clockwise around the room, moving the key up and down, looking for a brick to shine to help me find the dagger, which I found inside a brick in the middle of the wall, above the fireplace. I had to brush aside a bit of dust to find the hole to fit the key in the bottom right-hand corner, and I carefully pulled the dagger out.

My Guide kept me aware of the time. I had about twenty-five minutes left to finish the task, as I was moving the dagger up and down the bricks, looking for a few of them to shine to reveal Chrissie's location to me, when I heard a deep rumble from somewhere close by.

"What was that?" I asked, startled.

"Nothing to worry about," my Guide said calmly. "Georgia Diggs has just completed the task, that's all. Now, stay focused. You have twenty-two minute left to complete the task."

I figured that Georgia's thing that was taken from her was Khan, but I hid my jealousy well, and kept looking for Chrissie.

I had reached the wall to the right of the entrance, when some bricks glowed. I felt pleased, but that lasted for a moment, when I realised that instead of the bricks flashing gold like the others had done, these turned red. I was confused for a moment, before I realised what the dagger was for. I took a deep breath, before I held the dagger in my right hand, shaking slightly as I did so, and then brought it down on my left hand, slicing through the skin on my palm.

Hissing from the pain I had just bought on myself, I wiped the blood into the stone, which turned into a kind of long, narrow locker door. There was a keyhole in it, so I stuck the key in, unlocked the door, and Chrissie came tumbling into my arms. I held her steady as I felt her move, and then we pulled away from each other slowly. Chrissie looked around, confused, and then she saw me and smiled widely.

"Kiara, you found me!" Chrissie said delightedly. I grinned at her, and we hugged.

"Well done, Kiara Pride-Lander!" my Guide's voice said suddenly from near me. Chrissie and I let go of each other and looked at her. Chrissie must have looked alarmed, for she said, "Do not be afraid of me, dear one. I have helped Kiara Pride-Lander find you, and now the task is complete. When you are ready, I shall lead you back to the doorway, and you shall leave here freely."

"Thank you," I said, smiling at her. I then looked at Chrissie, and I saw her heading towards the grapes in the fruit bowl on the table.

Panicking, I yelled, "Chrissie, don't! If you eat anything, you'll wake up the Paleman and I'll fail the task!"

"But I'm so hungry," Chrissie moaned, as she reached for a grape.

"Chrissie, we can eat back at the castle, but right now we have _got to go_!" I said desperately, as Chrissie snapped off a grape. "Chrissie, no!" I yelled, but it was too late, for Chrissie had already put the grape in her mouth.

As soon as she did that, I saw the Paleman's arms start to move and Chrissie froze, turning her head slowly towards the Paleman, who was waking up.

"Now you've done it!" I growled at Chrissie, frustrated at her - and her stomach.

"Come, children! Quickly!" my Guide called, pointing to the entrance of the chamber. "Hurry, now! Meet me at the entrance of the cave!" Chrissie and I didn't need telling twice; we ran as fast as we could towards the entrance to the cave, which had sealed itself. When we got there, we heard rumblings going on around us, and the ground started to move.

"What's happening?" Chrissie asked, as scared as I was.

"I'll tell you what's happening," my Guide said, standing in front of us, "because you ate a grape, Christina Dawson, you not only awoke the Paleman, but you have potentially made Kiara fail the task, which means that this cave is collapsing. I have placed a spell on the entrance to the chamber to keep the Paleman at bay for about five minutes, so that there may be a chance for Kiara to complete the task and not fail it, and thus ensuring your safety."

"What must I do?" I asked, as the cave walls shook violently, and the sound of the Paleman's shrieks reached our ears.

"I am going to ask you a question, Kiara, which you, and you alone, must answer. Bear in mind, you only have one shot to answer it, and you must answer honestly. Do you wish to answer the question?"

"I do," I said, without hesitation.

"Very well. My question for you is this: Who in your family do you feel the most connected with?"

I was about to open my mouth and say, "My father", for every obvious reason you can think of, before I gave it some deep thought. Yes, my father had given me a protection which had saved me from Zira's clutches, but that had been when I was a baby don't forget, and yet, I had only met him when I was thirteen, because he had been stuck in Azkaban with my mother. The more I thought about the question, the more my mind searched through my memories - and then it hit me! Who had been my one constant connection to the wizarding world throughout my childhood?

"Grandmother Sarabi," I answered clearly.

My Guide suddenly vanished, and I thought that we had lost, when the entrance of the cave opened, and the invisible force that had dragged me inside, was dragging Chrissie and I back out. I quickly drew out the box of Chewy Breathers, took two of the sweet capsules out and handed one to Chrissie, as we were forced back into the water, with the big green bubbles around our heads. Once we were in the water, we then watched the cave's entrance become solid rock once more, before it crumbled into pieces, which floated slowly to the ground.

As Chrissie and I breathed with relief, we heard muffled banging from two doors down. I exchanged a quick glance with Chrissie, who was looking longingly at the surface, but when she saw the desperate look on my face, she reluctantly nodded, and we swam over to the cave.

Unfortunately, I had forgotten about the merpeople standing guard around the caves, but was harshly reminded by half-a-dozen merpeople pointing their spears at us.

"Your task is to retrieve your own friend ... leave the others ..." a merman said in a harsh, croaky voice.

"But _they_ could be in danger in there!" I yelled, gesturing towards the cave. "And I don't want whoever's in there to die!"

I looked down for the chalk, but the only things I had in my hands were my wand, the box of Chewy Breathers, the key and the dagger from the cave chamber; the chalk must have dissolved. I looked at Chrissie, desperate, but she just shrugged, as the merpeople closed in around us. Out of ideas, I directed Chrissie's attention to my wand, and then nudged my head at the merpeople. Chrissie nodded her head, pulled out her own wand, and we both pointed our wands at the merpeople. "Get out of the way!"

No sound flew out of the giant green bubbles around our heads, but we heard our voices inside them. I got the feeling that the mermen understood us, because their yellow eyes were fixed upon mine and Chrissie's wands, and they looked scared. There ight've been a lot more of them than there were of us, but I could tell, from the looks on their faces, that they knew no more magic than the giant squid did.

"You've got until three!" I shouted; Chrissie seemed to agree with me, as I held up three fingers to make sure they got the message. "One ..." (I put down a finger) - "two ..." (I put down a second) -

They scattered, as out from nowhere, a form emerged from beside Chrissie and I. He had a giant bubble around his head, which made his features look oddly wide and stretched. I saw the cloths covering his face, apart from his eyes. It was Kopa, Outsider's brother, who was hovering just behind him in the water. Kopa heard the banging that was coming from the cave, then reached out, took the dagger from my hands, sliced my left hand (which had magically healed itself in the chamber), grabbed my arm, dragged me over to the cave where the banging was coming from, put my left palm on the rock, which dissolved, to reveal a small boy with black hair that had flecks of gold in, which made me think that he was Ferdinand's brother. Chrissie and I helped the boy out, and then Kopa handed me the dagger back. He looked at me gently, with a smile in his familiar, light amber-coloured eyes, before he swam back to his brother, and they rose up together, as the rock that the boy was in that we had just rescued him from, and the rock that Outsider and Kopa had come out of, crumbled and disappeared before our eyes.

Chrissie and I then took an arm each of the boy, and together we swam slowly back to the surface ... I didn't know about the other two, but I fixed my eyes skywards. I knew that we were very deep, the water around us was so dark ...

Merpeople were rising with us. I could see them swirling around with ease, watching us struggle through the water ... I wondered whether they would pull us back down to the depths after we had risen, seeing as Chrissie and I had threatened them with magic? Or did they perhaps eat humans? My legs (as well as Chrissie's, I imagined), were seizing up with the effort to keep swimming; it was hard to swim upwards, when my robes were dragging me down.

I kept breathing with difficulty as I neared the surface ... the bubble around my head was growing slowly smaller as I got closer to the surface ... the darkness was definitely thinning ... I could see daylight above me ...

I kicked hard with my feet ... the bubble was turning into a sweet again ... water was flooding through my mouth into my lungs ... I was starting to feel dizzy, but I knew that light and air was only ten feet above me ... I had to get there ... I had to ...

I kicked my legs so hard and fast it felt as though my legs were screaming in protest; my very brain felt water-logged, I couldn't breathe, I needed oxygen, I had to keep going, I could not stop -

And then I felt my head break the surface of the river; wonderful, cold, clear air was making my wet face sting; I gulped it down, feeling as though I had never breathed properly before, and, panting, I looked over at the boy and Chrissie, who were panting just as hard as I was, but they were both smiling at me.

The crowd in the stands was making a great deal of noise, as Chrissie and I ate our lime-flavoured Chewy Breathers; shouting and screaming, everybody seemed to be on their feet; I had the impression they thought Chrissie and the boy might be dead, but they were wrong ... Chrissie and the boy were both grinning wildly.

"Why didn't he wake up?" I asked Chrissie. "I thought he would've still been asleep, seeing as Ferdinand didn't - "

"Oh, Kiara," Chrissie sighed exasperatedly, "you didn't take that song seriously, did you? Ma wouldn't have let any of us die!"

"But the song said - "

"Only to make sure you found us!" said Chrissie. "As you saw, there was another way out! Besides, the reason why he woke up was because that just in case none of us were found, because those who were meant to rescue us were dragged down by Grindylows or something, then the spell would wear off, the door would unlock, and we would come out and be fine, and we would be brought back later. I think he must've been very hungry and woke that monster up. No wonder he was so scared! As you see, Kiara, you didn't have to spend your time down there playing the hero!"

I felt both stupid and annoyed at myself; how could I have been so stupid as to take that song seriously? Why couldn't I have just got Chrissie and gone when I had the chance?

"C'mon," I said shortly, "help me with him, I don't think he can swim very well."

We pulled Ferdinand's brother through the water, back towards the bank where the judges stood watching, twenty merpeople accompanying us like a guard of honour, singing their horrible, screechy songs.

I could see Matron fussing over Kopa, Outsider, Georgia and Khan, all of whom were wrapped in thick blankets. Crighton and Lynn Baxter stood beaming at Chrissie and I from the bank as we swam closer, but Sian, along with Chris, who had clearly rushed over from the opposite bank, both came splashing out to meet us. Meanwhile, Monsieur Legrand was trying to restrain Ferdinand Desjardin, who was quite hysterical, fighting tooth and nail to return to the water.

"Simon! _Simon! Is 'e alive? Is 'e 'urt?_ "

"He's fine!" I tried to tell him, but I was so exhausted I could hardly talk, let alone shout.

Sian had seized Chrissie and was dragging her back to the bank ("Gerroff, S.D., I'm all right!"), Crighton and Baxter were pulling Chris and I upright; Ferdinand Desjardin had broken free of Monsieur Legrand and was hugging his brother.

"It was ze Grindylows ... zey attacked me ... oh, Simon, I thought ... I thought ..."

"Come here, you," said Matron's voice; she seized me and pulled me over to Kopa and the others, wrapped me so tightly in a blanket that I felt as though I was in a straight jacket, and forced a measure of very hot potion down my throat. Steam gushed out of my ears.

"Kiara, well done!" Sian cried, running over to me and hugging me tightly. "You did it, you found out all by yourself!"

I was about to ask what she was talking about, but she nudged her head pointedly in Kula's direction, who was watching us closely. Getting the point, I said, raising my voice slightly so that Kula could hear me, "Yeah, that's right!"

Sian pulled back from me slightly, before she hugged me again and said, "Thank you for saving my sister, Kiara! You truly are a good friend."

"Any time," I said. Sian smiled at me, before she turned her attention to Kopa, as did I. By the looks of things, Outsider was trying to draw Kopa back into a conversation, perhaps to remind him that he had just rescued him from the river, but Kopa wasn't interested. I could see a smile in Kopa's eyes as he stood up and walked towards Sian and I. Kopa put an arm around Sian's waist and held her close. She smiled at him, and I saw a smile in his eyes when he looked at her. They truly were made for each other.

"Oh, you have a water beetle on your cloths, Kopa," said Sian. Kopa brushed it aside impatiently, before he turned to me and said, "You did well down there, Kiara. I'm sure your parents would be proud of you if they saw you now."

"Thanks," I said. "Oh, and Kopa? Thanks for helping me get Ferdinand's brother out of the cave. You didn't have to do that."

"I know," he said, "but I saw how much you wanted to help him, so I helped you. I couldn't resist helping you, just as you couldn't resist helping him."

My feeling of stupidity was growing. Now that I was out of the water, it seemed perfectly clear that Crighton's safety precautions wouldn't have permitted the death of a hostage just because their Champion hadn't turned up. Why hadn't I just grabbed Chrissie and gone? I would have been the second one back ... Georgia and Outsider hadn't wasted time worrying about anyone else; they hadn't taken the mersong seriously ...

Crighton was crouched at the water's edge, deep in conversation with who seemed to be the chief merperson, a particularly wild and ferocious-looking female. she was making the same sort of screechy noises that the merpeople made when they were above water; clearly, she could speak Mermish. Finally she straightened up, turned to her fellow judges and said, "A conference before we give the marks, I think."

The judges went into a huddle. Matron had gone to fetch Chrissie, who was standing next to Chris and talking with him, after Sian had finally let go of her sister; she (Matron) led Chrissie over to where myself and the others were, gave her a blanket and some Pepper-Up Potion, then went to fetch Ferdinand and his brother. Ferdinand had many cuts on his face and arms, and his robes were torn, but he didn't seem to care, nor would he allow Matron to clean them.

"Look after Simon," he said to her, and then he turned to me. "You saved him," he said breathlessly. "Even though 'e was not your 'ostage."

"Yeah," I said, and I heartily wished that I'd left all three boys down in their caves.

Ferdinand bent down, kissed me twice on each cheek (I felt my face burn and wouldn't have been surprised if steam was coming out of my ears again), then said to Chrissie, "And you, too - you 'elped - "

"Yeah," said Chrissie, who looked extremely hopeful, "yeah, a bit - "

Ferdinand swooped down on her, too, and kissed her. Sian rolled her eyes, as Chris looked on, furious, but just then, Lynn Baxter's magically magnified voice boomed out beside us, making us all jump, and causing the crowd in the stands to go very quiet.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have now reached our decision. Merchieftainess Mercruss has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the river, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the Champions, as follows ...

"Mr Ferdinand Desjardin, though he demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by Grindylows as he approached his goal, and failed to retrieve his hostage. We award him twenty-five points."

There was applause from the stands.

"I deserved zero," said Ferdinand throatily, shaking his magnificent head.

"Miss Georgia Diggs, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with her hostage, though she was the second person to arrive, and returned within thirty minutes after entering her cave." Enormous cheers from the Badger-Stripes in the crowd; I saw Khan give Georgia a look full of pride. "We therefore award her forty-seven points."

My heart rose at this. If Georgia had been inside the time limit, then I most certainly had been.

"Mr Kovu Outsider used the Bubble-Head charm also, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points."

Kula clapped particularly hard, looking very superior.

"Miss Kiara Pride-Lander used a Chewy Breather, which is a sweet that performs a sort of Bubble-Head Charm, to great effect," Baxter continued. "She returned last, and even though her hostage ate a piece of fruit, she managed to save her hostage and come out of the cave inside the time limit. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Miss Pride-Lander was the first to reach the hostages, and that part of her delay in entering her cave and rising to the surface once she had saved her hostage was due to her determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely her own."

Chris, Sian and Chrissie gave me half-exasperated, half-commiserating looks.

"Most of the judges - " and here, Baxter gave Kula a very nasty look - "feel that this shows moral fibre and merits full marks. However ... Miss Pride-Lander's score is forty-five points."

My stomach leapt. I was tying in first place with Georgia. Chris, Sian and Chrissie, caught by surprise, stared at me, then laughed and started applauding hard with the rest of the crowd.

"There you go, Kiara!" Chris shouted over the noise. "You weren't being thick after all - you were showing moral fibre!"

Ferdinand was clapping very hard, too, but Outsider didn't look very happy at all. He attempted to engage Kopa in conversation again, but he was too busy cheering to listen.

"The third and final task will take place on the twenty-fourth of June," continued Baxter. the Champions will be notified of what is coming, precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the Champions."

It was over, I thought dazedly, as Matron began herding us Champions and our hostages back to the castle to get into dry clothes ... it was over, I had got through ... I didn't have to worry about anything until June the twenty-fourth ...

As I passed Sian and her mother, I saw Crighton trying to embrace her eldest child, but Sian avoided it. I saw Crighton look startled and stared confusedly at Sian's actions, but Sian just smiled apologetically at her mother, before she turned on her heel and walked hand-in-hand with Kopa back to the castle. I looked back at Crighton, and noticed a sadness in her eyes - even when Baxter called to her, and she tried to hide her sadness, I still caught a glimpse of it in her eyes.

My thoughts then turned to Dokey, and I made a promise to myself, which I kept; for the next time I went into Dragsmede, I was going to buy Dokey a pair of socks for every day of the year (well, they were for every day of the week, but at least they were socks!).

 **AN: For those of you who are wondering, this task was inspired by the task in _Pan's_ Labyrinth, which is a great movie that you should see - but only if you are ABOVE the age of fifteen! I hope you enjoyed these chapters, and I will be posting again on Sunday.**


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

 **Leo and Leona Return**

 **KIARA**

One of the best things about the aftermath of the second task was that everybody was very keen to hear details of what had happened down in the river, which meant that for once Chrissie was getting to share my limelight. I noticed that Chrissie's version of events changed slightly with every retelling. At first, she gave what seemed to be the truth; it tallied (from what Sian told us) with Kopa' story, anyway - Crighton had put all the hostages into a bewitched sleep in Professor Darbus' office, first assuring them that they would be quite safe, and would awake once they were released from the locker they were in, or else if their rescuer didn't turn up, they would be released anyway. It only took a week for Chrissie to change the story completely, which was a thrilling tale of kidnap, in which she struggled single-handedly against fifty heavily armed merpeople who had beaten her into submission before handing her over to the Paleman.

"But I had my wand hidden up my sleeve," she assured Ben, who made a point of talking to her every time they passed in the corridors. "I could've taken that Paleman and those mer-idiots any time I wanted."

"What were you planning to do, snore them to death?" said Sian waspishly. People had been teasing Kopa so much about being the thing that Kovu Outsider would miss the most. Even though Kopa didn't seem to mind it, Sian was in a rather tetchy mood about it, despite all the times that she had stood up for him.

Anyhoo, Chrissie's ears went red, and she reverted thereafter to the bewitched-sleep version of events.

As we entered March, the weather became drier, but cruel winds skinned our hands and faces every time we went out into the grounds. There were delays in the post because the owls kept being thrown off course. The brown owl that I had sent to my parents with the dates of the Dragsmede weekend turned up at breakfast on Friday morning with half its feathers sticking up the wrong way; I had no sooner torn off the reply from my parents than it took flight, clearly afraid it was going to be sent outside again.

My parents letter was almost as short as the previous one.

 _Be at stile at the end of road out of Dragsmede (past Dervish and Banges) at two o'clock on Saturday afternoon. Bring as much food as you can for your mother and I._

"They haven't come back to Dragsmede?" said Chris incredulously.

"It looks like it, doesn't it?" said Sian.

"I can't believe them," I said tensely. "If they're caught ..."

"Made it so far, though, haven't they?" said Chrissie. "And it's not like the place is swarming with Stingers anymore."

I folded up the letter, thinking. I'm going to be honest with you, my dear readers, as I was honest with myself: I was really looking forward to seeing my parents again. I therefore appreciated the final lesson of that Friday afternoon - which, if you must know, was double Potions - feeling considerably more cheerful than I usually did when descending the steps to the dungeons.

Malty, Crate and Gabber were standing in a huddle outside the classroom door with Parry Parker's group of Snake-Eyes boys, with Rea-Bradley pushed to one side. She was the only one who wasn't looking at something that I couldn't see, and she wasn't sniggering heartily. Parry's pug-like face peered excitedly around Gabber's broad back as Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I approached.

"There they are, there they are!" he laughed, and the knot of Snake-Eyes broke apart. I saw that Parry had a magazine in his hands - _Wizard Weekly_. The moving picture on the front showed a curly-haired wizard who was smiling toothily and was pointing at the latest broomstick model at the current time.

"You might find something to interest you in there, Rickers!" Parry said loudly, and he threw the magazine at Chris, who caught it, looking startled. At that moment, the dungeon door opened and Triphorm beckoned us all inside.

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I headed for a table at the back of the dungeon as usual. Once Triphorm had turned her back on us to write up the ingredients of the day's potion on the blackboard, Chris hastily riffled through the magazine under the desk. At last, in the centre pages, Chris found what we were looking for. Sian, Chrissie and I leant in closer. A colour photograph of me headed a small piece entitled _KIARA PRIDE-LANDER'S TWO POTENTIAL SUITORS_.

 _A girl like no other, perhaps - yet a girl suffering with all the usual pangs of adolescence,_ writes Peter Meter _. Knowing love in the form of her grandmothers since the tragic separation from her parents, fourteen-year-old Kiara Pride-Lander thought she had found extra solace in her steady boyfriend at Dragon Mort, half-blood Christopher Rickers. Little did she know that her feelings would be fought after by another - and far superior - young man._

 _Mr Rickers, a pretty-faced yet ambitious boy, seems to be fighting for Kiara's affections against a certain Kopa, who is the adoptive brother of Kovu Outsider, South African Seeker and hero of the last Quidditch Friendly. Outsider's brother was seen talking to Pride-Lander after the second task. But it seems that Outsider's brother is interested in Mr Rickers' adopted sister, Miss Sian Dawson. Kopa has said that he has "never felt this way about a girl before", and told Outsider that he was going to invite her to South Africa to visit his family during the summer._

 _However, it might not be Mr Rickers' doubtful natural charms which have captured Miss Pride-Lander's interest._

 _"He's really ugly," said Parry Parker, a handsome and vivacious fourth-year student, "but he'd be well up to making a Love Potion by asking the help of the Eldest Dawson Girl, his eldest sister, who's quite brainy. I think that's how he's doing it."_

 _Love Potions are of course banned at Dragon Mort, and no doubt Susan Crighton will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Kiara Pride-Lander's well-wishers must hope that, next time, she bestows her heart upon a worthier candidate._

"I told you" Chrissie hissed at Chris, as he stared down at the article. "I _told_ you not to annoy Peter Meter! He's made you out to be some sort of - of scarlet man!"

Chris stopped looking astonished and snorted with laughter.

 _"Scarlet man?"_ he repeated, shaking with suppressed chuckles as he looked round at Chrissie.

"I don't know, I was trying to think of the opposite of a scarlet woman, and that's the best my brain could come up with," Chrissie shrugged.

"If that's the best Peter can do, he's losing his touch," said Chris, still chortling, as he threw _Wizard Weekly_ on to the floor beside him. "What a pile of old rubbish."

He looked over at the Snake-Eyes, who were all watching Chris and I closely across the room to see if we had been upset by the article. Chris gave them a sarcastic smile and a wave, and he, Sian, Chrissie and I started unpacking the ingredients we would need for our Wit-Sharpening Potion.

"There's something funny, though," said Sian ten minutes later, holding her pestle suspended over a bowl of scarab beetles. "How could Peter Meter have known ..."

"Known what?" said Chrissie quickly. "You and Chris haven't been mixing up Love Potions together, have you?"

"Oh, don't be so stupid, Christina," Sian snapped, starting to pound up her beetles again. "No, it's just ... how did he know Kopa asked me to visit him over the summer?"

Sian blushed scarlet after she said this, and determinedly avoided Chris' eyes.

"What?" said Chris, as he dropped his pestle with a loud clunk.

"But, wait a minute ..." said Chrissie, looking confused. "The article said he talked to Outsider about it - "

"Which he did," Sian muttered, "after he left the castle for the Uagadou Sub once he had left the hospital wing, but almost as soon as he got out of the river, he asked me if I would like to spend the summer with him and his family - "

"And what did you say?" said Chris, who had picked up his pestle and was grinding it on the desk, a good six inches away from his bowl, because he was looking at Sian.

"And he _did_ say he'd never felt that way before about anyone," Sian went on, and instead of blushing deeply, she smiled a sweet, genuine smile of joy, before she shook her head and continued, "but how could Peter Meter have heard him? He wasn't there ... or was he? Maybe he has got an Invisibility Cloak, maybe he sneaked into the grounds to watch the second task ..."

"And what did you _say_?" Chris repeated, pounding his pestle down so hard that it dented the desk.

"Well, I said that I was going to have to check with my parents to see if it would be OK for me to - "

"Fascinating though your social life undoubtedly is, Miss Dawson," said an icy voice from right behind us, "I must ask you not to discuss it in my class. Ten points from Lion-Heart."

Triphorm had glided over to our desk while we had been talking. The rest of the class were looking at us; Malty took the opportunity to flash _PRIDE-LANDER STINKS_ across the dungeon at me.

"Ah ... reading magazines under the table as well?" Triphorm added, snatching up the copy of _Wizard Weekly_. "A further ten points from Lion-Heart ... oh, but of course ..." Triphorm's icy-blue eyes glittered as they fell on Peter Meter's article. "Pride-Lander has to keep up with her press cuttings ..."

The dungeon rang with the Snake-Eyes' laughter, and an unpleasant smile curled Triphorm's thin mouth. To my fury, she began to read the article aloud.

" _Kiara Pride-Lander's two Potential Suitors_ ... well, Pride-Lander, it seems that the Eldest Dawson Girl isn't the only one who's got young love on her mind, is she? _A girl like no other, perhaps_ ..."

I could feel my face burning. Triphorm was pausing at the end of every sentence to allow the Snake-Eyes to give off a few hearty laughs. That article sounded ten times worse when read by Triphorm.

" ... _Kiara Pride-Lander's well-wishers might hope that, next time, she bestows her heart upon a worthier candidate._ How very touching," Triphorm sneered, rolling up the magazine to continued gales of laughter from the Snake-Eyes. "Well, I think I had better separate the four of you, so you can keep your minds on your potions rather than your tangled love lives. Eldest Dawson Girl, next to Rea-Bradley. Miss Dawson, you stay there. Mr Rickers, over there, next to Mr Parker. Pride-Lander - that table in front of my desk. Move. Now."

I furiously threw my ingredients and my bag into my cauldron, and dragged it up to the front of the dungeon to the empty table. Triphorm followed, sat down at her desk and watched me unload my cauldron. Determined not to look at Triphorm, I resumed the mashing of my scarab beetles, imagining each one to have Triphorm's face.

"All this press attention seems to have inflated your already overlarge head, Pride-Lander," said Triphorm quietly, once the rest of the class had settled down again.

I didn't answer. I knew Triphorm was trying to provoke me; she had done it before. No doubt she was hoping for an excuse to take a round of fifty points from Lion-Heart before the end of the class.

"You might be labouring under the delusion that the entire wizarding world is impressed with you," Triphorm went on, so quietly that no one else could hear her (I continued to pound my scarab beetles, even though I had already reduced them to a very fine powder), "but I don't care how many times your picture appears in the papers. To me, Pride-Lander, you are nothing but a nasty little girl who considers rules to be beneath her."

I tipped the powdered beetles into my cauldron and started cutting up my ginger roots. My hands were shaking slightly out of anger, but I kept my eyes down, as though I couldn't hear what Triphorm was saying to me.

"So I give you fair warning, Pride-Lander," Triphorm continued, in a softer and more dangerous voice, "pint-sized celebrity or not - if I catch you breaking into my office one more time - "

"I haven't been anywhere near your office!" I said angrily, forgetting my feigned deafness.

"Don't lie to me," Triphorm hissed, her fathomless icy-blue eyes boring into mine. "Boomslang sking. Lacewing flies. Both come from my private stores, and I know who stole them."

I stared back at Triphorm, determined not to blink, or to look guilty. In truth, I hadn't stolen either of those things from Triphorm. Sian and Chris had taken the Boomslang skin and the Lacewing flies back in our second year - we had needed it for the Polyjuice Potion - and while Triphorm had suspected me at the time, she had not been able to prove it.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied coldly.

"You were out of bed on the night my office was broken into!" Triphorm hissed. "I know it, Pride-Lander! Now, Crazy-Head Grumpy might have joined your fan club, but I will not tolerate your behaviour! One more night-time stroll into my office, Pride-Lander, and you will pay!"

"Right," I said coolly, turning back to my ginger roots, "I'll bear that in mind if I ever get the urge to go in there."

Triphorm's eyes flashed. She plunged a hand inside of her red robes. For one wild moment, I thought Triphorm was going to pull out her wand and curse me - then I saw that Triphorm had drawn out a small crystal bottle of a completely clear potion. I just stared at it.

"Do you know what this is, Pride-Lander?" Triphorm said, her eyes glittering dangerously again.

"No," I said, completely honest that time.

"It's Veritaserum - a Truth Potion so powerful that three drops would have you spilling your most innermost secrets for this entire class to hear," said Triphorm viciously. "Now, the use of this Potion is controlled by very strict Ministry guidelines. But unless you watch your step, you might just find that my hand _slips_ \- " she shook the bottle slightly, " - right over your evening pumpkin juice. And then, Pride-Lander ... then we'll find out whether you've been in my office or not."

I said nothing. I turned to my ginger roots once more, picked up my knife and started slicing them again. I didn't like the sound of that Truth Potion at all, and nor did I put it past Triphorm to slip me some. I repressed a shudder at the thought of what might have come out of my mouth if Triphorm had done it ... quite apart from landing a whole lot of people in trouble - Chris and Sian for a start - there were all the other things I was concealing at the time ... like the fact that I was in contact with my parents ... and what I knew about Bernard Jenkins ... and - oh, how my insides squirmed uncomfortably at the thought - how I then felt about Khan ... I tipped my ginger roots into the cauldron too, and wondered whether I ought to have taken a leaf out of Grumpy's book and start drinking from a private hip-flask.

There was a knock on the dungeon door.

"Enter," said Triphorm in her usual voice.

We all looked around as the door opened. Professor Kula came in. Everyone, myself included, watched her as she walked up towards Triphorm's desk. she was twisting her finger around one of her curls again, and was looking agaitated.

"We need to talk," said Kula abruptly, when she had reached Triphorm. She seemed so determined that nobody should hear what she was saying that she was barely opening her lips; it was as though she was a rather poor ventriloquist. I kept my eyes on my ginger roots, listening hard.

"I'll talk to you after my lesson, Kula - " Triphorm muttered, but Kula interrupted her.

"I want to talk to you now, while you can't slip off, Tiana. You're avoiding me."

"After the lesson," Triphorm snapped.

Under the prospect of holding up a measuring cup to see if I'd poured out enough armadillo bile, I sneaked a sidelong glance at the pair of them. Kula looked extremely worried, and Triphorm looked angry.

Kula hovered behind Triphorm's desk for the rest of the double period. She seemed intent on preventing Triphorm slipping away at the end of class. Keen to hear what Kula wanted to say, I deliberately knocked over my bottle of armadillo bile with two minutes to go to the bell, which gave me an excuse to duck down behind my cauldron and mop up while the rest of the class moved noisily towards the door.

"What's so urgent?" I heard Triphorm hiss at Kula.

 _"This,"_ said Kula, and as I peered around the edge of my cauldron, I saw Kula pull up the left-hand sleeve of her robe, and show Triphorm something on her inner forearm.

"Well?" said Kula, still making every effort not to move her lips. "Do you see? It's never been this clear, never since - "

"Put it away!" hissed Triphorm, her icy-blue eyes sweeping the classroom.

"But you must have noticed - " Kula began in an agitated voice.

"We can talk later!" spat Triphorm. "Pride-Lander! What are you doing?"

"Clearing up my armadillo bile, Professor," I said innocently, straightening up and showing Triphorm the sodden rag I was holding.

Kula turned on her heel and strode out of the dungeon. She looked both worried and angry. Not wanting to remain alone with an extremely angry Triphorm, I threw my books and ingredients into my bag, and left at top speed to tell Chris, Sian and Chrissie what I had witnessed.

0000

We left the castle at noon the next day to find a weak silver sun shining down upon the grounds. The weather was milder than it had been since the start of 2008, and by the time we reached Dragsmede, the four of us had taken off our cloaks and threw them over our shoulders. The food my parents told us to bring was in my bag; we had sneaked two dozen chicken legs, two loaves of bread and two flagons of pumpkin juice from the lunch table (and if any of you want to know, Sian told Kopa that she couldn't go with him into Dragsmede, and when he asked her why, she told him that she, Chris, and Chrissie were meeting a few family members in Dragsmede who were having some trouble, and needed their help - and it was a private affair. Sian then told Chris, Chrissie and I that she didn't think Kopa believed her, but he didn't push her for any information after that, and that was all she said).

We went into Gladrags Wizardwear to buy a present for Dokey, where we had fun selecting all the most lurid socks we could find, including a pair patterned with flashing gold and silver stars, and another that screamed loudly when they became too smelly. Then, at half past one, we made our way up the High Street, past Dervish and Banges, and out towards the edge of the village.

I had never been in that direction before then. The winding lane was leading us out into the wild countryside around Dragsmede. The cottages were fewer there, and their gardens larger; we were walking towards the front of the mountain in whose shadow Dragsmede lay. Then we turned a corner, and saw a stile at the end of the lane. Waiting for us, their paws on the topmost bars, were two large, shaggy black dogs, with one slightly taller than the other, and one was carrying some newspapers in its mouth, and they both looked very familiar ...

"Hi, Daddy. Hi, Mum," I said, when we had reached them.

The black dog without the newspapers in its mouth sniffed my bag eagerly, wagged its tail and then licked my hand. The other one nuzzled its head into my side. Then the dogs both turned, and began to trot away from us across the scrubby patch of ground which rose to meet the rocky foot of the mountain. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I then climbed over the stile and followed them.

My parents led us to the very foot of the mountain, where the ground was covered in boulders and rocks. It was easy for them, for they had four paws each, but Chris, Sian Chrissie and I were soon out of breath. We followed my parents higher, up onto the mountain itself. For nearly half an hour we climbed a steep, winding and stony path, following my parents' wagging tails, sweating in the sun, the shoulder straps of my bag cutting into my shoulders.

Then, at last, my parents slipped out of sight, and when we reached the place where they had vanished, we saw a narrow fissure in the rock. We squeezed into it and found ourselves in a cool, dimly lit cave. Tethered at the end of it, one end of her rope around a large rock, was Noelani the Hippogriff. Half grey horse, half giant eagle, Noelani's fierce orange eye flashed at the sight of us. The four of us bowed low to her, and after regarding us imperiously for a moment, Noelani bent her scaly front knees, and allowed Sian to rush forwards and stroke her feathery neck. I, however, was looking at the black dogs, who had turned into my parents.

My parents were wearing ragged grey robes; the same ones they had been wearing when they had left Azkaban. Their hair (my father's tawny, my mother's pale gold) was longer than it had been when they had appeared in the fire, and it was untidy and matted once more. They looked very thin, but that didn't stop them both from greeting me warmly and holding me tightly for a few moments, before we let go.

I stood there, grinning at my parents for a few moments, before I pulled out the bundles of chicken legs and bread out of my bag, handed them to my parents and said, "Here. We managed to sneak these out of the Great Hall for you."

My mother took the bundle of chicken and handed it to my father, who snatched it, ripped it open and tucked into a chicken leg greedily. My mother shot him a disdainful look, before she turned to me and said, "Thank you, my darling," before she kissed me lightly on the cheek.

"It's just food, Mum," I said, shrugging.

"I know that, Kiara," said Mum gently, as she sat on the floor next to my father and took out a chicken leg. "But when you've been feasting on nothing but rats for a few months, you start to get desperate for something more tasteful."

"Your mother's right, Kiara," my father said, as he finished his first chicken leg and threw the bone to Noelani. He then stood up and walked over to me. I embraced him eagerly, despite how he smelt, and I was relieved when he hugged me back. Out of the two of them, it was my father who I missed the most. "It's good to see you again, Kiara," he said, kissing the top of my head.

"It's good to see you too, Daddy. _Both_ of you," I added, looking at Mum, who smiled as she ate the chicken leg she was holding.

I then said, "What are you two doing here, anyway?"

"Fulfilling our duty as your parents, that's what," Daddy said. "Don't worry about us, though. Your mother and I are pretending to be a couple of lovable strays. Besides," my father added, noticing the stress on my face, "we're your parents. We're the ones who are supposed to worry about you, not the other way around."

My mother gave a slight chuckle at this, and said, "Listen to your father, Kiara. You know he's right." My parents grinned and chuckled at this, but seeing the anxiety on my face, Mum said more seriously, "All right, your father and I want to be on the spot. Your last letter ... well, let's just say things are getting fishier. Your father and I have been stealing the paper every time someone throws one out, and by the looks of things, we're not the only ones who are getting worried."

She nodded at the yellowing _Daily Squabbler_ s on the cave floor, and Chris and Chrissie picked them up and unfolded them. I, however, continued to stare at my parents. "What if they catch you? What if you're seen?"

My mother stood up, walked over to me and touched my cheek, as my father took her place on the floor, and said, "Look, you four and Crighton are the only ones who know that your father and I aren't just Animagis', but are also Animal Spirits." She then shrugged as she took another chicken leg from my father.

Chrissie nudged me, and passed me the _Daily Squabbler_. There were two; the first bore the headline _Mystery Illness of Beatrice Clutch_ , the second, _Ministry Wizard Still Missing - Minister for Magic Now Personally_ _Involved_.

I looked down at the story about Clutch. Phrases jumped out at me: _hasn't been in public since November_... _house appears deserted_... _St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies decline comment_... _Ministry refuses to confirm rumours of critical illness_ ...

"They're making it sound like she's dying," I said slowly. "But she can't be that ill if she managed to get up here ..."

"Our cousin's Clutch's personal assistant," Chrissie informed my parents. "From what I've heard from her, Clutch is suffering from overwork."

"Mind you, she _did_ look ill the last time I saw her up close," I said slowly, still reading the story. "The night my name came out of the Goblet ..."

"Getting her comeuppance for sacking Blinky, isn't she?" said Sian coldly. She was stroking Noelani, who was crunching up my parents' chicken bones. "I bet she wishes she hadn't done it now - bet she feels the difference now he's not there to look after her."

"Sian's obsessed with house-elves," Chris muttered to my parents, casting Sian a dark look.

My parents, however, both looked interested at this news. "Clutch sacked her house-elf?" my father asked, as he and my mother shared a look of surprise.

"Yeah, at the Quidditch Friendly," I said, and I launched into the story of the Death Trail's appearance, and Blinky being found with my wand clutched in his hand, and Mrs Clutch's fury.

When I had finished, my father was on his feet, and he started pacing up and down the cave. "Let me get this straight," my father said after a while, brandishing two fresh chicken legs and handing one of them to my mother. "You first saw the elf in the Top Box. He was saving Clutch a seat, right?"

"Right," Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I said together.

"But Clutch didn't turn up for the match?"

"No," I said. "I think she said she had been too busy."

My father paced in silence again. Then he said, "Kiara, did you check your pockets for your wand after you'd left the Top Box?"

"Erm ..." I thought hard. "No," I said finally. "I didn't need to use it before we got in the forest. And then I put my hand in my pocket, and all that was in there were my Omnioculars." I stared at my parents. "Are you saying whoever conjured the Trail stole my wand in the Top Box?"

"It's possible," said Mum, after a few moments.

"Blinky didn't steal that wand!" said Sian shrilly.

"The e - sorry - _Blinky_ ," my father said pointedly, as Sian gave him a hard look, "wasn't the only one in that box ... who else was sitting behind you?"

"Loads of people," I said. "Some South African Minsters ... Cornelia Sweets ... the Maltys ..."

"The Maltys!" said Chris suddenly, so loudly that his voice echoed all around the cave, and Noelani tossed her head nervously. "I bet it was Nerissa Malty!"

"Anyone else?" said Mum.

"No one," I said.

"Yes, there was. There was Lynn Baxter," Sian reminded me.

"Oh, yeah ..."

"Your mother and I don't know anything about Baxter, except that she used to be Beater for Lancashire," said Daddy, as he kept pacing. "What's she like?"

"She's OK," I said. "She keeps offering to help me with the Triwizard Tournament."

"Does she, now?" said my father, frowning more deeply. "I wonder why she'd do that?"

"Says she's taken a liking to me," I said.

"Hmm," said Mum, who looked thoughtful.

"We saw her in the Forest just before the Death Trail appeared," Sian told my parents. "Remember?" she said to Chris, Chrissie and I.

"Yeah, but she didn't stay in the forest, did she?" said Chrissie. "The moment we told her about the riot, she went off to the campsite."

"How do you know?" Sian shot back. "How d'you know where she Disapparated to?"

"Come off it," said Chris incredulously, "are you saying that Lynn Baxter conjured the Death Trail?"

"It's more likely she did it than Blinky," said Sian stubbornly.

"Told you," said Chris, looking meaningfully at my parents, "told you Sian's obsessed with house - "

But my father held up a hand to silence Chris. "When the Death Trail had been conjured, and the elf had been discovered holding Kiara's wand, what did Clutch do?"

"Went to look in the bushes," I said, but there wasn't anyone else there."

"Of course," my father said, as he continued to pace, "of course, she'd want to pin it on anyone but her own elf ... and then she sacked him?

"Yes," said Sian in a heated voice, "she sacked him, just because he hadn't stayed in his tent and let himself get trampled - "

"Will you just let it go?" Chrissie said wearily.

"Yes, sister, _will_ you give it a rest with the elf?" said Chris.

But my parents both shook their heads, and my father said, "She's got the measure of Clutch better than you have, Chris, as well as you, Chrissie. If you want to know what a person's like, whether it be a man or woman, take a good look at how they treat their inferiors, not their equals."

He ran a hand over his unshaven face, evidently thinking hard. "All these absences of Bea Clutch ... she goes to the trouble of making sure her house-elf saves her a seat at the Quidditch Friendly, but doesn't bother to turn up and watch. She works very hard to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament, and then stops coming to that, too ... it's not like Clutch. If she's ever taken a day off work because of illness before this, then Nala and I will eat Noelani."

"D'you two know Clutch, then?" I said.

My parents' faces darkened then. They suddenly looked as menacing as the night when I had first met them, the night when I still believed that my parents were murderers and different people.

"Oh, your father and I know Clutch all right, Kiara," Mum said quietly. "She was the one who gave the order for us to be sent to Azkaban - without a trial."

 _"What?"_ Chris, Sian and Chrissie said together.

"You're kidding!" I said.

"No, I'm not," said Mum, tasking another piece of chicken. Clutch used to be Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, didn't you know?"

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I shook our heads.

"She was tipped as the next Minister for Magic," Daddy said. "She was a great witch, Bea Clutch, powerfully magical - and power-hungry. Oh, never a Zira supporter," he said, reading the look on my face. "No, Bea Clutch was always very outspoken against the Dark side. But then a lot of people who were against the Dark side ... well, you wouldn't understand ... you're too young ..."

"That's what my dad said at the Quidditch Friendly," said Chrissie, with a trace of irritation in her voice. "Try us, why don't you?"

My father then looked at my mother questioningly, wanting her advice. She swallowed the bit of chicken that she was eating, and said, "Well Simba, they're not babies anymore. We have to treat them like the young adults they are." My father smiled gratefully at her, before he turned back to Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I.

She chuckled slightly as a grin flashed across my father's thin face. "All right, I'll try you ..."

My mother sat down, as my father walked once up the cave, back again, and then said, "Imagine that Zira's powerful now. You don't know who her supporters are, you don't know who's working for her and who isn't; you know she can control people so that they do terrible things without being able to stop themselves. You're scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing ... the Ministry of Magic's in disarray, they don't know what to do, they're trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but meanwhile, Muggles are dying too. Terror everywhere ... panic ... confusion ... that's how it used to be.

"Well, times like that bring out the best in people, and the worst in others. Clutch's principles might've been good in the beginning - Nala and I wouldn't know. She rose quickly through the Ministry, and she started ordering very harsh measures against Zira's supporters. The Aurors were given new powers - powers to kill rather than capture, for instance. Of course, these were the days when Zira and her followers were acting in the shadows, trying not to draw attention to themselves - but the Ministry were starting to hear things - so the Ministry sent some of their best Aurors out in secret, telling them that they were undercover, to try and put a stop to them. Well, you can imagine how that went." My father shook his head sorrowfully before he continued, "Anyway, Nala and I weren't the only ones who were handed straight to the Dementors - who were the guards of Azkaban at the time - without trial. Clutch fought violence with violence, and authorised the use of the Unforgivable Curses against suspects. I would say - as well as Nala, I'm sure - that she became as ruthless and cruel as many on the Dark side. She had her supporters, mind you - plenty of people thought she was going about things the right way, and there were a lot of witches and wizards clamouring for her to take over as Minister for Magic (this, of course, was all kept quiet until news of you and Zira started to spread, Kiara). When Zira disappeared, it looked like only a matter of time until Clutch got the job. But then something rather unfortunate happened ..." My parents smiled grimly. "Clutch's own daughter was caught with a group of Love Destroyers who managed to talk their way out of Azkaban. Apparently they were trying to find Zira and return her to power."

"Clutch's daughter was caught?" gasped Sian.

"Yep," Daddy said, as he took another chicken leg, and flung himself back onto the ground beside Mum. "Nasty little shock for old Bea, I'd imagine. Should have spent a bit more time at home with her family, shouldn't she? Ought to have left the office early once in a while ... made the effort to know her own daughter."

My parents quickly ate the rest of the chicken, before they pulled out the loaves, and began to wolf down the large pieces of bread.

" _Was_ her daughter a Love Destroyer?" I said.

"No idea," said Mum. "Your father and I were in Azkaban ourselves when she was brought in. This is mostly stuff we've found out since we got out. The girl was definitely caught in the company of people we'd bet our lives were Love Destroyers - but she might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, just like Blinky."

"Did Clutch try and get her daughter off?" Sian whispered.

My parents both let out laughs that were much more like light growls. "Clutch let her daughter off?" my father said incredulously. "I thought you had the measure of her, Sian? Anything that threatened to tarnish her reputation had to go, she had dedicated her whole life to becoming Minister for Magic. You saw her dismiss a devoted house-elf because he associated her with the Death Trail again - doesn't that tell you what she's like? Clutch's motherly affection stretched just far enough to give her daughter a fair trial and - by all accounts, it wasn't much more of an excuse for Clutch to show how much she hated the girl ... then she sent her straight to Azkaban."

"She gave her own daughter to the Dementors?" I asked quietly.

"That's right," my father said, and he and my mother didn't look remotely amused anymore. "Nala and I saw the Dementors bringing her in, watched them through the bars in our cell door. From what I can remember, she can't have been more than nineteen at the time. They took her into a cell near ours. She was screaming for her father by nightfall. She went quiet after a few days, though ... they all went quiet in the end ... except when they shrieked in their sleep ..."

For a moment, the deadened look in my parents' eyes became more pronounced than ever, as though shutters had closed behind them.

"So, she's still in Azkaban?" I said.

"No," Mum said dully. "No, she's not in there anymore. She died about a year after they brought her in."

"She _died_?"

"She wasn't the only one," said Daddy bitterly. "Most go mad in there, and plenty stop eating in the end. The lose the will to live. You could always tell when a death was coming, because the Dementors got excited. Oh, they didn't kill her," he said quickly, catching the questioning look on my face. "No, the Dementors don't have the necessary skills to do that. Anyway, the girl looked pretty sickly when she arrived. Clutch, being an important Ministry member, she and her husband were allowed a deathbed visit. That was the last time your mother and I saw Bea Clutch, Kiara, half-carrying her husband past our cell. He died himself, apparently, shortly afterwards. Grief. Wasted away just like the girl. Clutch never came for her daughter's body. The Dementors buried her outside the fortress, we watched them do it."

My father threw aside the bread he had just lifted to his mouth, and instead picked up the flask of pumpkin juice and drained it.

"So, old Clutch lost it all, just when she thought she had it made," he continued, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "One moment, a hero, poised to become Minister for Magic ... next, her daughter and husband both dead, the family name dishonoured, and, so we've heard since we escaped, a big drop in popularity. Once the girl had died, people started feeling a bit more sympathetic towards her, and started asking how a nice young lady from a good family had gone so badly astray. The conclusion was that her mother never cared much for her. So Cornelia Sweets got the job after Kingsley Shacklebolt's reign ended a few years ago, and about ten years before that, Clutch was shunted sideways into the Department of International Co-operation."

There was a long silence. I was thinking of the way Clutch's eyes had bulged as she'd looked down at her disobedient house-elf back in the woods at the Quidditch Friendly. This, then, must have been why Clutch had overreacted to Blinky being found beneath the Death Trail. It had brought back memories of her daughter, and the old scandal, and her fall from grace at the Ministry.

"Grumpy says Clutch is obsessed with catching Dark wizards," I told my parents.

"Yeah, we've heard it's become a bit of a mania with her," Mum said, nodding. "If you ask me, she thinks she can bring back the old popularity by catching one more Love Destroyer."

"And she sneaked up here to search Triphorm's office!" said Chris triumphantly, he and Chrissie looking at Sian.

"Yes, and that doesn't make sense at all," Daddy said.

"Yeah, it does!" said Chrissie excitedly.

But my father shook his head. "Listen, if Clutch wants to investigate Triphorm, why hasn't she been coming to judge the Tournament? It would be an ideal excuse to make regular visits to Dragon Mort and keep an eye on her."

"So, you think Triphorm could be up to something, then?" I asked, but Sian broke in.

"Look, I don't care what you say, Ma trusts Triphorm - "

"Oh, come off it, Sian," said Chrissie impatiently, "I know Ma's brilliant and everything, but that doesn't mean a really clever Dark witch couldn't fool her - "

"Why did Triphorm save Kiara's life in the first year, then? Why didn't she just let her die?"

"I dunno - maybe she thought Ma would kick her out - "

"Hey, Simba, Nala, what d'you guys think?" Chris said loudly, and Sian and Chrissie stopped bickering to listen.

"I think they've both got a point," Mum said before Daddy could say anything, looking thoughtfully at Sian and Chrissie. "Ever since your father and I found out Triphorm was teaching here, Kiara, we've wondered - " my father then interrupted her by coughing slightly. Mum looked at him, and saw that he had an eyebrow raised pointedly, and had a look on his face that clearly said, _"We?"_ Mum then sighed impatiently, and said, "All right, then - _I've_ wondered why Crighton hired her. Triphorm's always been fascinated by the Dark Arts, she was famous for it at school. Slimy, oily, greasy-haired kid, she was," Mum added, ignoring the disapproving look my father was giving her, as Chris, Chrissie and I grinned at each other. "Triphorm knew more curses when she arrived at school than half the kids in seventh year and she was part of a gang of Snake-Eyes who nearly all turned out to be Love Destroyers."

My father then held up his fingers, and began ticking off names. "Rothenberg and Wilbor - they were both killed by Aurors the year before Zira fell, Katalina Malty ended up in Azkaban about four years after Zira fell, even though she was involved in Bea Clutch's daughter's case - she married someone who was as good as a Love Destroyer who was on the outside, and is known as Katalina Outsider now - Aakster - from what we've heard, she wormed her way out of trouble by saying she'd been acting under the Imperius Curse - she's still at large. But as far as we know, Triphorm was never even accused of being a Love Destroyer - not that that means much. Plenty of them were never caught. And Triphorm's certainly clever and cunning enough to get herself out of trouble."

"Triphorm knows Kula pretty well, but she wants to keep that quiet," said Chrissie.

"Yeah, you should've seen Triporm's face when Kula turned up in Potions yesterday!" I said quickly. "Kula wanted to talk to Triphorm, she says Triphorm's been avoiding her. Kula looked really worried. She showed Triphorm something on her arm, but I couldn't see what it was."

"She showed Triphorm something on her arm?" Mum said, she and Daddy both looked bewildered at this. Mum brushed some hair out of her face distractedly, then shrugged. "Well, we've no idea what that's about ... but if Kula's genuinely worried, and she's going to Triphorm for answers ..."

Mum stared at the cave wall, then made a grimace of frustration. "There's still the fact that Crighton trusts Triphorm, and Simba and I both know Crighton trusts where a lot of people wouldn't, but I just can't see her letting Triphorm teach at Dragon Mort if she ever worked for Zira."

"Why are Grumpy and Clutch so eager to get into Triphorm's office, then?" said Chris.

"Well," my father said slowly, "I wouldn't put it past Crazy-Head to have searched every single teacher's office when she got to Dragon Mort. She takes her Defence Against the Dark Arts seriously, Grumpy does. I'm not sure _she_ trusts anyone at all, after the things she's seen, it's not surprising. I'll say this for Grumpy, though, she never killed if she could help it. Always brought people in alive where possible. She was tough, but she never descended to the level of the Love Destroyers. Cluth, though ... she's a different matter ... is she really ill? If she is, why did she make the effort to drag herself up to Triphorm's office? And if she's not ... what's she up to? What was she doing at the Quidditch Friendly that was so important that she didn't turn up in the Top Box? What's she been doing while she should have been judging the Tournament?"

My father then lasped into silence and put an arm around my mother, who was still staring at the cave wall. Noelani was ferreting around on the rocky floor, searching for bones she might have overlooked.

Finally, my father looked up at Chrissie. "You say your cousin's Clutch's personal assistant? Any chance you could ask her if she's seen Clutch lately?"

"I can try," said Chrissie doubtfully. "Better not make it sound like Clutch is up to anything dodgy, though. Perdy loves Clutch."

"And you might try and find out whether they've got any leads on Bernard Jenkins while you're at it," Mum said, gesturing at the second copy of the _Daily Squabbler_. "Of course, we know that Zira killed him, but it's best to keep the Ministry in the dark about that fact right now."

"Baxter told me they hadn't found him," I said. "I mean, I was going to tell her what I knew, but then I thought better of it. Not only do I not want Baxter thinking I'm a crazy person, but I also don't want the Ministry to freak out about it. And I can only imagine what Peter Meter would say if he found out."

"A wise decision on the whole, Kiara," my father said, smiling at me, with a twinkle of pride in his eye. "But as to Baxter, she's been blustering in a _Squabbler_ article about how bad Bernard's memory is. Well, it looks like he might have changed since Nala and I knew him, but the Bernard we knew wasn't forgetful at all - quite the reverse. He was a bit dim, but he had an excellent memory for gossip. It used to get him into a lot of trouble, for he never knew when to keep his mouth shut. I could see him as being a bit of a liability at the Ministry of Magic ... maybe that's why Baxter didn't bother to look for him for so long ... no point now, I suppose, but still ..."

My father then heaved an enormous sigh and rubbed his shadowed eyes. "What's the time?"

I checked my watch, and then I remembered that it hadn't been working since it had spent over an hour in the river.

"It's half past three," said Sian.

"You'd better get back to school," Mum said, as she and my father got back to their feet. "Now, listen ..." she looked particularly hard at me - "Your father and I don't want you lot sneaking out of school to see us, all right? Just send notes to us here. We still want to hear about anything odd. But you're not to go leaving Dragon Mort without permission; it would be an ideal opportunity for someone to attack you."

"No one's tried to attack me so far, except a dragon, a couple of Grindylows and a Paleman," I said.

But my parents scowled at me. My father then gripped my shoulders, looked deeply in my eyes and said, "We don't care ... your mother and I'll breathe freely again when this Tournament's over, and that's not until June. And don't forget, if you're talking about us amongst yourselves, call us Leo and Leona, OK?"

Daddy then handed me back the empty napkins and flasks. As I took them, I said, "I'll send you more food soon, I promise."

Mum smiled sweetly, and brushed some hair from my face again. "You're a good daughter, Kiara. Your father and I couldn't have wished for better."

"What do you expect, Nala? She's a Pride-Lander, after all!" Daddy teased. I laughed, and the three of us hugged each other tightly for a few moments. When we let go, I went to pat Noelani goodbye. "We'll walk to the edge of the village with you," said Daddy, "see if we can scrounge another paper or two."

My parents transformed into the great black dogs before we left the cave, and we walked back down the mountain with them, across the boulder-strewn ground, and back to the stile. There my parents allowed Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I to pat them both on the head (I, of course, hugged them again, as well as receiving a lick on the hand from both of them), before they turned and set off at a run around the outskirts of the village.

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I made our way back into Dragsmede, and up towards Dragon Mort.

"Wonder if Perdy knows all that stuff about Clutch?" Chris said, as we walked up the drive to the castle. "But maybe she doesn't care ... it'd probably just make her admire Clutch even more. Yeah, Perdy loves rules. She'd just say Clutch was refusing to break them for her own daughter."

"Perdy would never throw any of her family to the Stingers, no matter how much she loves following rules," said Sian severely.

"I don't know," said Chrissie. "Seeing as we're her cousins, if she thought we were standing in the way of her career ... after all, Sian, Perdy's really ambitious ..."

We walked up the stone steps into the Entrance Hall, where the delicious smells of dinner wafted towards us from the Great Hall.

"Poor old Leo and Leona," said Chris, breathing deeply. "They must really love you, Kiara ... imagine having to live off rats." Chris grinned at me as he finished this, but at the glare I gave him, his grin vanished and he bowed his head, and I didn't speak to him for the remainder of the day.

 **AN: Sorry this took me a day extra to upload guys, but I hope you enjoy this chapter and that it makes sense to you.**


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

 **The Madness of Mrs Clutch**

 **KIARA**

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I went up to the Owlery after breakfast on Sunday to send a letter to Perdy, asking, as my parents had suggested, whether she had seen Mrs Clutch. We used Harold, because I wanted to make sure that he wasn't getting bored with being sent to my grandmothers all the time. When we had watched him out of sight through the Owlery window, we proceeded down to the kitchen to give Dokey her new socks.

The house-elves gave us a very cheery welcome, bowing and curtseying and bustling around making tea again. Dokey was ecstatic about her present.

"Kiara Pride-Lander is too good to Dokey!" she squeaked, wiping large tears out of her enormous eyes.

"No chance of more of those éclairs, is there?" said Chrissie, who was looking around at the beaming and bowing house-elves.

"You've just had breakfast!" said Sian irritably, but a great silver platter of éclairs was zooming towards us, supported by four elves.

"We should get some stuff to send up to Leo and Leona," I muttered.

"Good idea," said Chris. "Give Pig and Cat something to do. You couldn't give us a bit of extra food, could you?" he said to the surrounding elves, and they bowed delightedly and hurried off to get some more.

"Dokey, where's Blinky?" said Sian, who was looking around.

"Blinky is over there by the fire, miss," said Dokey quietly, her ears drooping slightly.

"Oh dear," said Sian, as she spotted Blinky.

I looked over at the fireplace, too. Blinky was sitting on the same stool as last time, but he had allowed himself to become so filthy that he was not immediately distinguishable from the smoke-blackened bricks behind him. His clothes were ragged and unwashed. He was clutching a bottle of Butterbeer and swaying slightly on his stool, staring into the fire. As we watched him, he gave an enormous hiccough.

"Blinky is getting through six bottles a day now," Dokey whispered to me.

"Well, it's not strong, that stuff," I said.

Dokey shook her head. "Tis strong for a house elf, miss," she said.

Blinky hiccoughed again. The elves who had brought the éclairs gave him disapproving looks as they returned to work.

"Blinky is pining, Kiara Pride-Lander," Dokey whispered sadly. "Blinky wants to go home. Blinky still thinks Mrs Clutch is his mistress, miss, and nothing Dokey says will persuade him that Professor Crighton is his mistress now."

"Hey, Blinky," I said, struck by a sudden inspiration, walking over and bending down to speak to him, "you don't know what Mrs Clutch might be up to, do you? Because she's stopped coming up to judge the Triwizard Tournament."

Blinky's eyes flickered. His enormous pupils focused on me. He swayed slightly again and then said, "M-Mistress is stopped - _hic_ \- coming?"

"Yeah," I said, "we haven't seen her since the first task. The _Daily_ Squabbler's saying she's ill."

Blinky swayed some more, staring blurrily at me. "Mistress - _hic_ \- ill?"

His bottom lip began to tremble.

"But we're not sure if that's true," said Sian quickly.

"Mistress is needing her - _hic_ \- Blinky!" whimpered the elf. "Mistress cannot - _hic_ \- manage - _hic_ \- all by herself ..."

"Other people manage to do their own housework, you know, Blinky," said Sian severely.

"Blinky - _hic_ \- is not only - _hic_ \- doing housework for Mrs Clutch!" Blinky squeaked indignantly, swaying worse than ever and slopping Butterbeer down his already heavily stained shirt. "Mistress is - _hic_ \- trusting Blinky with - _hic_ \- the most important - _hic_ \- the most secret - "

"What?" I said.

But Blinky shook his head very hard, spilling more Butterbeer down himself.

"Blinky keeps - _hic_ \- his mistress' secrets," he said mutinously, swaying very heavily and frowning up at me with his eyes crossed. "You is - _hic_ \- nosing, you is."

"Blinky must not talk like that to Kiara Pride-Lander!" said Dokey angrily. "Kiara Pride-Lander is brave and noble and Kiara Pride-Lander is not nosy!"

"She is nosing - _hic_ \- into my mistress' - _hic_ \- private and secret - _hic_ \- Blinky is a good house-elf - _hic_ \- Blinky keeps his silence - _hic_ \- people trying to - _hic_ \- pry and poke - _hic_ \- " Blinky's eyelids drooped and suddenly, without warning, he slid off his stool onto the hearth, snoring loudly. The empty bottle of Butterbeer rolled away across the stone-flagged floor.

Half-a-dozen house-elves came hurrying forward, looking disgusted. One of them picked up the bottle, as the others covered Blinky with a large checked tablecloth and tucked the ends in neatly, hiding him from view.

"We is sorry you had to see that, misses and sir!" squeaked a nearby elf, shaking her head and looking very ashamed. "We is hoping you will not judge us all by Blinky, misses and sir!"

"He's unhappy!" said Sian, exasperated. "Why don't you try and cheer him up instead of covering him up?"

"Begging your pardon, miss," said the house-elf, curtseying deeply again, "but house-elves has no right to be unhappy when there is work to be done and masters to be served."

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" said Sian angrily. "Listen to me, all of you! You've got just as much right as wizards to be unhappy! You've got the right to wages and holidays and proper clothes, you don't have to do everything you're told - look at Dokey!"

"Miss will please leave Dokey out of this," Dokey mumbled, looking scared. The cheery smiles had vanished from most of the house-elves around the kitchen, as all of the other house-elves listened with interest; but the house-elves that had stopped smiling at Sian's words were looking at Sian as though she was mad and dangerous.

"We has your extra food!" squeaked an elf at my elbow, and she shoved a large ham, a dozen cakes and some fruits into my arms. "Goodbye!"

The house-elves crowded around Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I, and began shoving us out of the kitchen, many little hands pushing in the smalls of our backs.

"Thank you for the socks, Kiara Pride-Lander!" Dokey called miserably from the hearth, where she was standing next to the lumpy tablecloth that was Blinky.

"You couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you, Sian?" said Chrissie angrily, as the kitchen door slammed shut behind us. "They won't want us visiting them now! We could've tried to get more stuff out of Blinky about Clutch!"

"Oh, as if you care about that!" scoffed Sian. "You only like coming down here for the food!"

"Chrissie has got a point, Sian," said Chris. "I mean, if you hadn't tried to talk to the elves about their status in society, none of this would have happened!"

It was an irritable sort of day after that. I got so tired of Chris, Sian and Chrissie snapping at each other over our homework in the common room that I took my parents' food up to the Owlery that evening on my own.

Piggledon and Catonia were much too small to carry an entire ham up to the mountain by themselves, so I enlisted the help of two screech owls as well. When they had set off into the dusk, looking extremely odd carrying the large package between them, I leaned on the window-sill, looking out at the grounds, at the dark, rustling treetops of the Black Forest, and the dark outline of the Uagadou sub. An eagle owl flew through the coil of smoke rising from Mina's chimney; it soared towards the castle, around the Owlery and out of sight. Looking down, I saw Mina digging energetically in front of her cabin. I wondered what she was doing; it looked as though she was making a new vegetable patch. As I watched, Monsieur Legrand emerged from the Beauxbatons carriage and walked over to Mina. He appeared to be trying to engage her in conversation. Mina leant upon her spade, but did not seem keen to prolong their talk, because Monsieur Legrand returned to the carriage shortly afterwards.

Unwilling to go back to Lion-Heart Tower and listen to Chris, Sian and Chrissie snarling at each other, I watched Mina digging until the darkness swallowed her, and the owls around me began to awake, swooshing past me into the night.

0000

By breakfast the next day, Chris, Sian and Chrissie's bad moods had burnt out, and to my relief, Chrissie's dark prediction that the house-elves would send sub-standard food up to the Lion-Heart table because Sian had insulted them proved to be false; the bacon, eggs and kippers were quite as good as usual.

When the post owls arrived, Sian looked up eagerly; she seemed to be expecting something.

"Perdy won't've had time to answer yet," said Chrissie. "We only sent Harold yesterday."

"No, it's not that," said Sian. "I've taken out a new subscription to the _Daily Squabbler_. I'm getting sick of finding everything out from the Snake-Eyes."

"Good thinking!" I said, looking up at the owls. "Hey, Sian, I think you're in luck - "

A grey owl was soaring down towards us.

"It hasn't got a newspaper, though," she said, looking disappointed. It's - "

But to her bewilderment, the grey owl landed, not in front of her, but in front of Chris' plate instead, closely followed by four barn owls, a brown owl and a tawny. Chris put down his knife and fork slowly, looking as bewildered as Sian did.

"Did you take out any subscriptions too, Chris?" I said, seizing his goblet before it was knocked over by the cluster of owls, all of whom were jostling closer to him, trying to deliver their own letter first.

"What on earth - ?" Chris said, taking the letter from the grey owl, opening it and starting to read. "Oh, come on!" he spluttered, going rather red.

"What's up?" said Chrissie.

"It's - oh, it's ridiculous - " He thrust the letter at me, and I saw that it was not handwritten, but was in fact composed from pasted letters that seemed to have been cut out of the _Daily Squabbler_.

 _You are a WickEd boY. KiARa PriDe-LaNdEr deserves BetteR. gO Find SomeOne elSe to BE wIth._

"They're all like it!" said Chris desperately, opening one letter after another. " "Kiara Pride-Lander can do much better than the likes of you ..." "You deserve to be boiled in frog-spawn ..." _Ouch!_ "

He had opened the last envelope, and yellowish green liquid smelling strongly of petrol gushed over his hands, which began to erupt in large yellow boils.

"Undiluted Bubotuber pus!" said Sian, picking up the enverlope gingerly and sniffing it.

"Ow!" said Chris, hissing and wincing in pain as he tried to rub it off his hands with a napkin, but his fingers were now so thickly covered in painful sores that it looked as though he was wearing a pair of thick, knobbly gloves.

"You'd better get up to the hospital wing," I said, as the owls around Chris took flight, "we'll tell Spud where you've gone ..."

"We warned him!" said Chrissie, as Chris hurried out of the Great Hall, cradling his hands. "We warned him to be careful around Peter Meter, didn't we, Sian? Look at this one," Chrissie said, not waiting for Sian to answer, as she read out one of the letters Chris had left behind, " _"I read in_ Wizard Weekly _about how you are the wrong guy for Kiara Pride-Lander, and for your own sake you should stay away from her and let her be with the right guy, for that girl has had enough hardship and I will be sending you a curse by post as soon as I can find a big enough envelope."_ Blimey, he'd better watch out for himself."

Chris didn't turn up for Herbology. As Sian, Chrissie and I left the greenhouse for Care of Magical Creatures class, we saw Malty, Crate, Gabber and Rea-Bradley who, instead of walking beside Malty as usual was walking behind her, looking sad, as they descended the stone steps of the castle. Parry Parker was whispering and chuckling behind them with his gang of Snake-Eyes boys. Catching sight of me, Parry called, "Pride-Lander, have you split up with your boyfriend? Why did he run out of the Great Hall at breakfast?"

I ignored him; I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much trouble the _Wizard Weekly_ article had caused.

Mina, who had told us last lesson that we had finished with unicorns, was waiting for us outside her cabin with a fresh supply of open crates at her feet. My heart sank at the sight of the crates - surely not another Crab hatching? - but when I got near enough to see inside, I found myself looking at a number of fluffy black creatures with long snouts. Their front paws were curiously flat, like spades, and they were blinking up at my class and I, looking politely puzzled at all the attention.

"These're Nifflers," said Mina, when we had gathered around. "Yeh find 'em down mines mostly. They like sparkly stuff ... there yeh go, look."

One of the Nifflers had suddenly leapt up and attempted to bite Parry Parker's watch off his wrist. He yelped and jumped backwards.

"Useful little treasure detectors," said Mina happily. "Thought we'd have some fun with 'em today. See over there?" She pointed at the large patch of freshly turned earth I had watched her digging from the Owlery window. "I've buried some gold coins. I've got a prize for whoever picks the Niffler that digs up the most. Jus' take off yeh valuables, an' choose a Niffler an' get ready ter set 'em loose."

I took off my watch, which I only wore out of habit, as it didn't work, and I stuffed it in my pocket. Then I picked up a Niffler. It put its long snout in my ear and sniffed enthusiastically. It was really quite cuddly.

"Hang on," said Mina, looking down into the crate, "there's a spare Niffler here ... who's missin'? Where's Chris?"

"He had to go to the hospital wing," said Chrissie.

"We'll explain later," I muttered; Parry Parker was listening.

It was easily the most fun we had ever had in Care of Magical Creatures. The Nifflers dived in and out of the patch of earth as though it was water, each scurrying back to the student who had released it and spitting gold into their hands. Chrissie's was particularly efficient; it had soon filled her lap with coins.

"Can you buy these as pets, Mina?" she asked excitedly, as her Niffler dived back into the soil, splattering her robes.

"Absolutely not, Chrissie!" Sian said indignantly.

"And why not?" Chrissie moaned. "I mean, they find stuff easily, and they're really cute, and - "

But Sian shook her head, rolled her eyes and said, "Mina, would you please tell my dim-witted sister exactly why you don't have Nifflers as pets?"

Mina grinned and said, "There's a reason why yeh sister here won' like havin' one around yeh home, Chrissie, 'cause they wreck houses, Nifflers. I reckon they've nearly got the lot now," she added. pacing around the patch of earth, while the Nifflers continued to dive. "I on'y buried a hundred coins. Oh, there y'are, Chris!"

Chris was walking towards us across the lawn. His hands were heavily bandaged and he looked miserable. Parry Parker was watching him beadily.

"Well, let's check how yeh've done!" said Mina. "Count yer coins! An' there's no point tryin' ter steel any, Gabber," she added, her beetle-brown eyes narrowed. "It's leprechaun gold. Vanishes after a few hours."

Gabber emptied her pockets, looking extremely sulky. It turned out that Chrissie's Niffler had been the most successful, so Mina gave her an enormous slab of The Sugarshack's chocolate for a prize. The bell rang across the grounds for lunch; the rest of my class set off back to the castle, but Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I stayed behind to help Mina put the Nifflers back in their boxes. I noticed Monsieur Legrand watching us out of his carriage window.

Chris told her about the hate mail he had received that morning, and the envelope full of Bubotuber pus.

"Aaah, don' worry," said Mina gently, looking down at him. "I got some o' those letters an' all, after Peter Meter wrote abou' me dad. "Yeh're a monster an' yeh should be put down." "Yer father killed innocent people an' if you had any decency you'd jump in the river." "

"No!" said Chris and Sian together, both looking shocked.

"Yeah," said Mina, heaving the Niffler crates over her cabin wall. "They're jus' nutters, Chris. Don' open 'em if yeh get anymore. Chuck 'em straigh' in the fire."

"You missed a really good lesson," I told Chris, as we headed back towards the castle. "They're good, Nifflers, aren't they, Chrissie?"

Chrissie, however, was frowning at the chocolate Mina had given her. She looked thoroughly put out about something.

"What's the matter?" I said. "Wrong flavour?"

"No," said Chrissie shortly. "Why didn't you tell me about the gold?"

"What gold?" I said.

"The gold I gave you at the Quidditch Friendly," said Chrissie. "the leprechaun gold I gave you for my Omnioculars. In the Top Box. Why didn't you tell me it disappeared?"

I had to think for a moment before I realised what Chrissie was talking about.

"Oh ..." I said, the memory coming back to me at last. "I dunno ... I never noticed it had gone. I was more worried about my wand, wasn't I?"

We climbed the steps into the Entrance Hall and went into the Great Hall for lunch.

"Must be nice," Chrissie said abruptly, when we had sat down and started serving ourselves roast beef and Yorkshire puddings. "To have so much money you don't notice if a pocketful of Galleons goes missing."

"Listen, I had other stuff on my mind that night!" I said impatiently. "We all did, remember?"

"I didn't know leprechaun gold vanishes," Chrissie muttered. "I thought I was paying you back. You shouldn't have given me that Chudley Cannon hat for Christmas."

"Forget it, all right?" I said.

Chrissie speared a roast potato on the end of her fork, glaring at it. Then she said, "I hate being overlooked."

Chris, Sian and I looked at each other. None of us really knew what to say.

"It's rubbish," said Chrissie, still glaring down at her potato. "I don't blame you for getting all the attention, Sian," Chrissie then said, her expression gentling as she looked pleadingly at her sister, hoping that she would understand. "Really, I don't. It's just that, even though I'm the second eldest in the family, I'm always the one who's given the least amount of pocket money. I wish I could make some extra money. Wish I had a Niffler."

"Well, we know what to get you next Christmas," said Chris brightly. Then, when Chrissie continued to look gloomily, she said, "Come on, Chrissie, it could be worse. At least your fingers aren't full of pus." Chris was having a lot of difficulty managing his knife and fork, his fingers were so stiff and swollen. "I _hate_ that Meter man!" he burst out savagely. "I'll get him back for this if it's the last thing I do!"

0000

Hate mail continued to arrive for Chris over the following week, and although he followed Mina's advice and stopped opening it, several of his ill-wishers sent Howlers, which exploded at the Lion-Heart table and shrieked insults at him for the whole Hall to hear. Even Sian got her fair share of it, but she kept her head held high, didn't open a single letter, and blatantly ignored the hurtful words that came from the Howlers and the jibes that the Snake-Eyes sent her way. Even those people who didn't read _Wizard Weekly_ knew all about how Sian and I were supposedly with the wrong people now. I was getting sick of telling people that Chris wasn't my boyfriend (once again, Chris, I'm sorry).

"It'll die down, though," I told Chris, "if we just ignore it ... people got bored with that stuff he wrote about me last time - "

"I want to know how he's listening into private conversations when he's supposed to be banned from the grounds!" said Chris angrily.

"As do I, Chris!" said Sian, nodding in agreement with him. "In fact, I want to ask Professor Grumpy something after Defence Against the Dark Arts ..."

So, Sian hung back in our next Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson to ask Professor Grumpy something. The rest of us were very eager to leave; Grumpy had given us such a rigorous test of hex-deflection that many of us were nursing small injuries. I remember that I had such a bad case of Twitchy Ears, that I had to clamp my hands over them as I walked away from the class.

"Well, Peter's definitely not using an Invisibility Cloak!" Sian panted five minutes later, catching up with Chris, Chrissie and I in the Entrance Hall and pulling one of my hands away from one of my wriggling ears so that I could hear. Grumpy says she didn't see him anywhere near the judges' table at the second task, or anywhere near the river!"

"Sian, is there any point telling you to drop this?" said Chrissie.

"No!" said Sian stubbornly. "I want to know how he heard Kopa talking to me! _And_ how he found out about Mina's dad! And I also want justice done for how he treated Chris in that article!"

"Thanks, S.D.," said Chris, smiling gratefully at her.

"You're welcome."

"Maybe he had you bugged?" I said, getting us back on track.

"Bugged?" said Chrissie blankly. "What ... put fleas on him or something?"

I started explaining about hidden microphones and recording equipment.

Chrissie was fascinated and Chris was partially interested, but Sian interrupted us. "Aren't you three _ever_ going to read _Dragon Mort: A History_?"

"What's the point?" said Chrissie. "You know it off by heart, we can just ask you."

"All these substitutes for magic Muggles use - electricity, and computers and radar, and all those things - they all go haywire around Dragon Mort, there's too much magic in the air. No, Peter's using magic to eavesdrop, he must be ... if I could just find out what it is ... oooh, if it's illegal, I'll have him ..."

"Haven't we got enough to worry about?" Chrissie asked her. "Do we have to start a vendetta against Peter Meter as well?"

"I'm not asking you to help!" Sian snapped. "I'll do it on my own!"

She marched back up the marble staircase without a backward glance. I was quite sure she was going to the library.

"What's the betting she comes back with a box of _I Hate Peter Meter_ badges?" said Chris.

Sian, however, did not ask Chris, Chrissie and I to help her pursue vengeance against Peter Meter, for which the three of us were grateful, because our workload was mounting ever higher in the run-up to the Easter holidays. I frankly marvelled at the fact Sian could research magical methods of eavesdropping as well as everything else we had to do. I was working flat out just to get through all our homework, though I made a point of sending regular food packages up to the cave in the mountains for my parents, and when I did, I enclosed notes to my parents, telling them that nothing out of the ordinary had happened, and that we were still waiting for an answer from Perdy.

Harold didn't return until the end of the Easter holidays. Perdy's letter was enclosed in a package of Easter eggs that Mr Dawson had sent. Sian's, Chrissie's, mine and the rest of the Dawson's eggs were the size of dragon egss, and were dull of home-made toffee - as was Chris', which surprised him.

"But I thought Dad read _Wizard Weekly_?" Chris said, looking puzzled. "I thought he would be angry with me about the stuff Peter Meter wrote about me ... so why did he - ?"

"Oh, he was angry, Chris," said Sian. "He wrote to me about it, but I wrote back to him, saying that what Peter Meter wrote about you was rubbish, and that he should ignore it. Whether he believes me or not, I don't know, but I'd take that egg as a good sign, if I were you."

Chris looked surprised for a moment, then smiled at Sian and said, "Thanks, S.D." Sian smiled back at him and brushed his gratitude aside with her hand, as if to say, "No big deal".

"Don't you want to see what Perdy's written?" I then asked him.

Perdy's letter was short and irritable.

 _As I am constantly telling the_ Daily Squabbler _, Mrs Clutch is taking a well-deserved break. She is sending in regular owls with instructions. No, I haven't actually seen her, but I think I can be trusted to know my own superior's handwriting. I have quite enough to do at the moment without trying to quash these ridiculous rumours. Please don't bother me again unless it's something important. Happy Easter._

0000

The start of the summer term would have normally meant that I would have been training hard for the last Quidditch match of the season. That year, however, it was the third and final task in the Triwizard Tournament for which I needed to prepare, but I still didn't know what I would have to do. Finally, in the last week of May, Professor Darbus held me back in Transfiguration.

"You are to go down to the Quidditch pitch tonight at nine o'clock, Pride-Lander," she told me. "Miss Baxter will be there to tell the Champions about the third task."

So at half past eight that night, I left Chris, Sian and Chrissie in Lion-Heart Tower, and went downstairs. As I crossed the Entrance Hall, Georgia came up from the Badger-Stripes common room.

"What d'you reckon it's going to be?" she asked me, as we went together down the stone steps, out into the cloudy night. "Ferdinand keeps going on about underground tunnels; he reckons we've got to find treasure."

"That wouldn't be too bad," I said, thinking that I would simply have to ask Mina for a Niffler to do the job for me.

We walked down the dark lawn to the Quidditch stadium, turned through a gap in the stands, and walked out onto the pitch.

"What've they done to it?" Georgia said indignantly, stopping dead.

The Quidditch pitch was no longer smooth and flat. It looked as though somebody had been building long, low walls all over it, twisting and criss-crossing in every direction.

"They're hedges!" I said, bending to examine the nearest one.

"Hello there!" called a cheery voice.

Lynn Baxter was standing in the middle of the pitch with Outsider and Ferdinand. Georgia and I made our way towards them, climbing over the hedges. Ferdinand beamed at me as I came nearer to them. His attitude towards me had changed completely since I had pulled his brother out of the river.

"Well, what d'you think?" said Baxter happily, as Georgia and I climbed over the last hedge. "Growing nicely, aren't they? Give them a month and Mina'll have them twenty-foot-high. Don't worry," she added, grinning, catching the less-than-happy expressions on mine and Georgia's faces, "you'll have your Quidditch pitch back to normal once the task is over! Now, I imagine you can guess what we're making here?"

None of us spoke for a moment. Then -

"Maze," grunted Outsider.

"That's right!" said Baxter. "A maze. The third task's really very straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the centre of the maze. The first Champion to touch it will receive full marks."

"We seemply 'ave to get through the maze?" said Ferdinand.

"There will be obstacles," said Baxter happily, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Mina is providing a number of creatures ... then there will be spells that must be broken ... all that sort of thing, you know. Now, the Champions who are leading on points will get a head start into the maze." Baxter grinned at Georgia and I. "Then Mr Outsider will enter ... then Mr Desjardin. But you'll all be in with a fighting chance, depending on how well you get past the obstacles. Should be fun, eh?"

I knew only too well the kind of creatures that Mina was likely to provide for this event, and I therefore thought it unlikely to be any fun at all. However, I nodded politely with the other Champions.

"Very well ... if you haven't got any questions, we'll go up back to the castle, shall we, seeing as it's a bit chilly ..."

Baxter hurried alongside me as we began to wend our way out of the growing maze. I had the feeling that Baxter was going to start offering me help again, but just then, Outsider tapped me on the shoulder.

"Could I have a word?"

"Yeah, all right," I said, slightly surprised.

"Will you walk with me?"

"OK," I said curiously.

Baxter looked slightly perturbed. "I'll wait for you, Kiara, shall I?"

"No, it's OK, Miss Baxter," I said, suppressing a smile, "I think I can find the castle on my own, thanks."

Outsider and I left the stadium together, but Outsider did not set a course for the Uagadou submarine. Instead, he walked towards the Forest.

"What're we going this way for?" I said as we passed Mina's cabin, and the illuminated Beauxbatons carriage.

"Don't want to be overheard," said Outsider shortly.

When at last we had reached a quiet stretch of ground, a short way from the Beauxbatons' horses' paddock, Outsider stopped in the shade of the trees and turned to face me.

"I want to know," he said, glowering, "what there is between you and my brother."

Now, I must admit, readers, that I expected worse than this, judging from Outsider's secretive manner, so I just stared up at Outsider in amazement.

"Nothing," I said, but Outsider glowered at me, and I, somehow struck anew by how tall he was, elaborated. "Look, I'm not interested in your brother, OK, if that's what you think. In fact, I've never shown an interest in him. I've said the odd word to him here and there, and smiled at him occasionally, but that's it. I swear."

"My brother asks Sian a lot of questions about you," said Outsider, looking suspiciously at me. "Sian answers them, of course, but I think she's becoming jealous of you now - even though she was the one who started to talk about you quite a lot in the first place ..."

"Look, I didn't know Sian talked to Kopa about me until just recently!" I said impatiently. "But Sian and I are friends, so she has every right to talk about me to her boyfriend. And you can tell Kopa from me that Sian's all his, just as he's all hers. And besides that," I added, "I haven't even shown an interest with Chris!" (Sorry, Chris, but as we both know, that did change.)

I couldn't quite believe I was having this conversation with Kovu Outsider, the famous International Quidditch player. It was as though the eighteen-year-old Outsider thought I, Kiara, was an equal - a real rival - and all because of his brother -

"So ... you have never ... you have not ... not even to ..."

"No," I said, very firmly.

Outsider looked slightly happier. He then breathed a sigh of relief, chuckled and said, "I'm sorry I doubted you, Kiara. It's just that I care about my brother's happiness a lot, and - "

"Hey, it's OK," I said, brushing his apology aside. "If I were the eldest in my family, I would have reacted in exactly the same way."

Outsider then said, "You fly very well. I was watching at the first task."

"Thanks," I said, grinning broadly, and suddenly feeling much better myself. "I saw you at the Quidditch Friendly. The Wronski Feint thing, you really - "

But something moved behind Outsider in the trees, and as I had already had some experience of the sort of creatures that lurk in the Forest, I instinctively grabbed Outsider's arm and pulled him around.

"What is it?"

I shook my head, staring at the place where I'd seen movement. I slipped my hand inside my robes, reaching for my wand.

Next moment, a woman had staggered out from behind a tall oak. For a moment, I didn't recognise her ... then I realised that it was Mrs Clutch.

She looked as though she had been travelling for days. The knees of her robes were ripped and bloody; her face was scratched, and she looked grey with exhaustion. Her neat hair was in need of a wash and a trim. Her strange appearance, however, was nothing to the way she was behaving. Muttering and gesticulating, Mrs Clutch appeared to be talking to someone that she alone could see. She reminded me vividly of an old tramp I had seen once when out with my grandmothers. That woman, too, had been conversing wildly with thin air; Grandmother Sarabi bought her some tea and Grandmother Sarafina gave her some money. On the way home, they both talked about how they would both like to help people like that in the future.

"Wasn't she a judge?" said Outsider, staring at Mrs Clutch. "Isn't she with your Ministry?"

I nodded, hesitated for a moment, then walked slowly towards Mrs Clutch, who did not look at me, but continued to talk to a nearby tree: " ... and when you've done that, Fans, send an owl to Crighton confirming the number of Uagadou students who will be attending the Tournament; Kula has just sent word that there will be twelve ..."

"Mrs Clutch?" I said cautiously.

" ... and then send another owl to Monsieur Legrand, because he might want to up the number of students he's bringing, now Kula's made it a round dozen ... do that, Fans, will you? Will you? Will ..." Mrs Clutch's eyes were bulging. She stood staring at the tree, muttering soundlessly at it. Then she staggered sideways, and fell to her knees.

"Mrs Clutch?" I said loudly. "Are you all right?"

Clutch's eyes were rolling in her head. I looked around at Outsider, who had followed me into the trees, and was looking down at Clutch in alarm.

"What is wrong with her?"

"No idea," I muttered. "Listen, you'd better go and get someone - "

"Crighton!" gasped Mrs Clutch. She reached out and seized a handful of my robes, dragging me closer, though her eyes were staring over my head. "I need ... see ... Crighton ..."

"OK," I said, "if you get up, Mrs Clutch, we can go up to the - "

"I've done ... stupid ... thing ..." Mrs Clutch breathed. She looked utterly mad. Her eyes were rolling and bulging, and a trickle of spittle was sliding down her chin. Every word she spoke seemed to cost her a terrible effort. "Must ... tell ... Crighton ..."

"Get up, Mrs Clutch," I said loudly and clearly. "Get up, I'll take you to Crighton!"

Mrs Clutch's eyes rolled forward onto me.

"Who ... you?" she whispered.

"I'm a student at the school," I said, looking around at Outsider for some help, but Outsider was hanging back, looking extremely nervous.

"You're not ... _hers_?" whispered Clutch, her mouth sagging.

"No," I said, without the faintest idea what Clutch was talking about.

"Crighton's?"

"That's right," I said.

Clutch was pulling me closer; I tried to loosen Clutch's grip on my robes, but it was too powerful.

"Warn ... Crighton ..."

"I'll get Crighton if you let go of me," I said. "Just let me go, Mrs Clutch, and I'll get her ..."

"Thank you, Fans, and when you have done that, I would like a cup of tea. My husband and daughter will be arriving shortly; we are attending a concert tonight with Mr and Mrs Sweets." Clutch was now talking fluently to a tree again, and seemed completely unaware that I was there, which surprised me so much that I didn't notice that Clutch had released me. "Yes, my daughter has recently gained twelve O.W.L.s, most satisfactory, yes, thank you, yes, very proud indeed. Now, if you could bring me that memo from the Andorran Minister for Magic; I think I will have time to draft a response ..."

"You stay with her!" I said to Outsider. "I'll get Crighton, I'll be quicker, I know where her office is - "

"She is mad," said Outsider doubtfully, staring down at Clutch, who was still gabbing to the tree, apparently convinced it was Perdy.

"Just stay with her," I said, starting to get up, but my movement seemed to have triggered another abrupt change in Mrs Clutch, who seized me hard around the knees and pulled me back to the ground.

"Don't ... leave ... me!" she whispered, her eyes bulging again. "I ... escaped ... must warn ... must tell ... see Crighton ... my fault ... all my fault ... Bernard ... dead ... all my fault ... my daughter ... my fault ... tell Crighton ... Kiara Pride-Lander ... the Scarlet Lady ... stronger ... Kiara Pride-Lander ..."

"I'll get Crighton if you let me go, Mrs Clutch!" I said. I looked furiously around at Outsider. "Help me, will you?"

Looking extremely apprehensive, Outsider moved forward and squatted down next to Mrs Clutch.

"Just keep her here," I said, as I pulled myself free of Mrs Clutch. "I'll be back with Crighton."

"Hurry, won't you?" Outsider called after me, as I sprinted away from the Forest, and up through the dark grounds. They were deserted; Baxter, Ferdinand and Georgia had disappeared. I tore up the stone steps, through the oak front doors and off up the marble staircase, towards the second floor.

Five minutes later I was hurtling towards a large, glass elevator, which stood halfway along the empty corridor.

When I reached it, I tried to enter, but the thing wouldn't budge. After a few minutes, I saw the token slot, and I realised that I didn't have any tokens on me to take me up to Crighton's office.

"Move!" I shouted at it. "Come on!"

But nothing at Dragon Mort had ever moved because I had shouted at it; I knew it was no good. I also knew that I would have to ask Sian for some tokens when I got back to the common room. I then looked up and down the dark corridor, wondering if Crighton was in the staff room, so I then started running as fast as I could towards the staircase, when -

"PRIDE-LANDER!"

I skidded to a halt and looked around.

Triphorm had just emerged from the staircase behind the elevator (and for those of you who are reading this are screaming, "Why didn't you just take the stairs?", or have forgotten why I couldn't take them, then I'll remind you now: Sian told me in our second year that even though her mother knew there were stairs leading to her office, she wanted people to use the elevator, so there!), and was beckoning me back towards her. "What are you doing here, Pride-Lander?"

"I need to see Professor Crighton!" I said, running back up the corridor and skidding to a standstill in front of Triphorm instead. "It's Mrs Clutch ... she's just turned up ... she's in the Forest ... she's asking - "

"What is this rubbish?" said Triphorm, her icy-blue eyes glittering. "What are you talking about?"

"Mrs Clutch!" I shouted. "From the Ministry! She's ill or something - she's in the Forest, she wants to see Crighton! Just give me a token for the - "

"The Headmistress is busy, Pride-Lander," said Triphorm, her thin mouth curling into an unpleasant smile.

"I've got to tell Crighton!" I yelled.

I could tell Triphorm was thoroughly enjoying herself, denying me the thing I wanted when I was so panicky.

"Look," I said angrily, "Clutch isn't right - she's - she's - out of her mind - she says she wants to warn - "

I heard a pair of light footsteps coming down the staircase behind Triphorm. Crighton was standing there, wearing long green robes, and a mildly curious expression.

"Is there a problem?" she said, looking between Triphorm and I.

"Professor!" I said, side-stepping Triphorm before Triphorm could speak. "Mrs Clutch is here - she's down in the Forest, she wants to speak to you!"

I expected to ask questions but, to my relief, Crighton did nothing of the sort. "Lead the way," she said promptly, and she swept off along the corridor behind me, leaving Triphorm standing next to the elevator, wearing a rather disappointed frown.

"What did Mrs Clutch say, Kiara?" said Crighton, as we walked swiftly down the marble staircase.

"Said she wants to warn you ... said she's done something terrible ... she mentioned her daughter ... Bernard Jenkins ... and - and Zira ... something about Zira getting stronger ..."

"Indeed," said Crighton, and she quickened her pace as we hurried out into the pitch-darkness.

"She's not acting normally," I said, hurrying along beside Crighton. "She doesn't seem to know where she is. She keeps talking like she thinks Perdy Fang's there, and then she changes, and says she needs to see you ... I left her with Kovu Outsider."

"You did?" said Crighton sharply, and she began to take longer strides still, so that I was running to keep up. "Do you know if anybody else saw Mrs Clutch?"

"No," I said. "Outsider and I were talking, Mrs Baxter had just finished telling us about the third task, we stayed behind, and then we saw Mrs Clutch coming out of the Forest - "

"Where are they?" said Crighton, as the Beauxbatons carriage emerged from the darkness.

"Over here," I said, moving in front of Crighton, leading the way through the trees. I couldn't hear Clutch's voice anymore, but I knew where I was going; it hadn't been much past the Beauxbatons carriage ... somewhere around here ...

"Kovu?" I called.

No one answered.

"They were here," I said to Crighton. "They were definitely somewhere around here ..."

 _"Lumos,"_ Crighton said, lighting her wand and holding it up.

Its narrow beam travelled from black trunk to black trunk, illuminating the ground. And then it fell upon a pair of feet.

Crighton and I hurried forwards. Outsider was sprawled on the Forest floor. He seemed to be unconscious. There was no sign at all of Mrs Clutch. Crighton bent over Outsider and gently lifted one of his eyelids.

"Stunned," she said softly, as she pointed her wand at the trees, trying to see if she could spot anything moving within them by the light that her wand was providing.

"Should I go and get someone?" I said. "Matron, perhaps?"

"No," said Crighton swiftly. "Stay here."

She raised her wand into the air and pointed it in the direction of Mina's cabin. I saw something silvery dart out of it and streak away through the trees like a ghostly bird. Then Crighton bent over Outsider again, pointed her wand at him, and muttered, _"Enervate."_

Outsider opened his eyes. He looked dazed. When he saw Crighton, he tried to sit up, but Crighton put a hand on his shoulder and made him lie still.

"She attacked me!" Outsider muttered, putting a hand up to his head. "The old madwoman attacked me! I was looking around to see where Pride-Lander had gone and she attacked from behind!"

"Lie still for a moment," Crighton said.

The sound of thunderous footfalls reached us, and Mina came panting into sight with Gnasher at her heels. She was carrying her crossbow.

"Professor Crighton!" she said, her eyes widening. "Kiara - what the - ?"

"Mina, I need you to fetch Professor Kula," said Crighton. "Her student has been attacked. When you've done that, kindly alert Professor Grumpy - "

"No need, Crighton," said a wheezy growl, "I'm here." Grumpy was limping towards us, leaning on her staff, her wand lit.

"Damn leg," she said furiously. "Would've been here quicker ... what's happened? Triphorm said something about Clutch - "

"Clutch?" said Mina blankly.

"Kula, please, Mina!" said Crighton sharply.

"Oh yeah ... right y'are, Profesor ..." said Mina, and she turned and disappeared into the dark trees, Gnasher trotting after her.

"I don't know where Bea Clutch is," Crighton told Grumpy, "but it is essential that we find her."

"I'm onto it," growled Grumpy, and she pulled out her wand, and limped off into the Forest.

Neither myself nor Crighton spoke again until we heard the unmistakeable sounds of Mina and Gnasher returning. Kula was hurrying along behind them. She was wearing her sleek silver furs, and she looked pale and agitated.

"What is this?" she cried, when she saw Outsider on the ground, and Crighton and I beside him. "What's going on?"

"I was attacked!" said Outsider, sitting up now, and rubbing his head. "Mrs Clutch or whatever her name - "

"Clutch attacked you? _Clutch_ attacked you? The Triwizard judge?"

"Ifu," Crighton began, but Kula had drawn herself up, clutching her furs around her, looking livid.

"Treachery!" she bellowed, pointing at Crighton. "It is a plot! You and your Ministry of Magic have lured me here under false pretences, Crighton! This is not an equal competition! First you sneak Pride-Lander into the Tournament, though she is underage! Now one of your Ministry friends attempts to put _my_ Champion out of action! I smell double-dealing and corruption in this whole affair, and you, Crighton, you, with your talk of closer international wizarding links, of rebuilding old ties, of forgetting old differences - here's what I think of _you_!"

Kula spat onto the ground at Crighton's feet. In one swift movement, Mina seized the front of Kula's furs, lifted her into the air, and slammed her against a nearby tree.

"Apologise!" Mina snarled, as Kula gasped for breath, Mina's massive fist at her throat, her feet dangling in mid-air.

"Mina, _no_!" Crighton shouted, her eyes flashing.

Mina released the hand pinning Kula to the tree, and Kula slid all the way down the trunk and slumped in a huddle at its roots; a few twigs and leaves showered down upon her head.

"Kindly escort Kiara back up to the castle, Mina," said Crighton sharply.

Breathing heavily, Mina gave Kula a glowering look. "Maybe I'd better stay, Headmistress ..."

"You will take Kiara back to school, Mina," Crighton repeated firmly. "Take her right up to Lion-Heart Tower. And Kiara - I want you to stay there. Anything you might want to do - any owls you might want to send - they can wait until morning, do you understand me?"

"Er - yes," I said, staring at her. I wondered how Crighton had known that I was going to send Piggledon to my parents and Harold to my grandmothers, to tell them what had happened? But then again, this _is_ Crighton we're talking about here, so what can you do?"

"I'll leave Gnasher with yeh, Headmistress," Mina said, still staring menacingly at Kula, who was still sprawled at the foot of the tree, tangled in furs and tree-roots. "Stay, Gnasher. C'mon, Kiara."

We marched in silence past the Beauxbatons carriage and up towards the castle.

"How dare she," Mina growled, as we strode past the river. "How dare she accuse Crighton. Like Crighton'd do anythin' like that. Like Crighton wanted _you_ in the Tournament in the firs' place. Worried! I dunno when I seen Crighton more worried than she's bin lately. An' you!" Mina suddenly said angrily to me.

"Me? What've I done?" I said, looking at her, taken aback.

Mina shook her giant head, rolled her eyes and said, still angry, "Yeh were wanderin' off with ruddy Outsider, _tha's_ what yeh was doin'! He's from Uagadou, Kiara! Coulda jinxed yeh right there, couldn' he? Hasn' Grumpy taught yeh nothin'? 'Magine lettin' him lure yeh off on yer own - "

"Outsider's all right!" I said, as we climbed the steps into the Entrance Hall. "He wasn't trying to jinx me, he just wanted to make sure nothing was going on between me and his brother, 'cause Kopa's going out with Sian - "

"I'll be havin' a few words with her, an' all," said Mina grimly, stomping up the stairs. "The less you lot 'ave ter do with these foreigners, the happier yeh'll be. Yeh can' trust any of 'em."

"You were getting on all right with Monsieur Legrand," I said, annoyed.

"Don' you talk ter me abou' him!" said Mina, and she looked quite frightening for a moment. "I've got his number now! Tryin' ter get back in me good books, tryin' ter get me ter tell him what's comin' in the third task. Ha! You can' trust any of 'em!"

Mina was in such a bad mood, I was quite glad to say goodbye to her in front of the Fat Lord. I clambered through the portrait hole into the common room, and hurried straight for the corner where Chris, Sian and Chrissie were sitting, to tell them what had happened.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

 **The Dream**

 **KIARA**

"It comes down to this," said Sian, rubbing her forehead. "Either Mrs Clutch attacked Kovu, ot somebody else attacked both of them when Kovu wasn't looking."

"It must've been Clutch," said Chris at once. "That's why she was gone when Kiara and Ma got there. She'd done a runner."

"I don't think so," I said, shaking my head. "She seemed really weak - I don't reckon she was up to Disapparating or anything."

"You _can't_ Disapparate in the Dragon Mort grounds, haven't I told you enough times?" said Sian.

"OK ... how's this for a theory," said Chrissie excitedly, "Outsider attacked Clutch - no, wait for it - and then Stunned herself!"

"And Mrs Clutch evaporated, did she?" said Sian coldly.

"Oh, yeah ..."

It was daybreak. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I had crept out of our dormitories very early, and hurried up to the Owlery together to send two notes - one to my parents, and the other to my grandmothers. Now we were standing looking out at the misty grounds. The four of us were puffy-eyed and pale, because we had been talking late into the night about Mrs Clutch.

"Just go through it again, Kiara," said Sian. "What did Mrs Clutch actually say?"

"I've told you, she wasn't making much sense," I said. "She said she wanted to warn Crighton about something. She definitely mentioned Bernard Jenkins, and she seemed to think he was dead - which we know is true. She keeps saying stuff was her fault ... she mentioned her daughter."

"Well, that _was_ her fault," said Sian testily.

"She was out of her mind," I said. "Half the times she seemed to think her husband and daughter were still alive, and she kept talking to Perdy about work and giving her instructions."

"And ... remind me what she said about She-You-Know?" said Chris tentatively.

"I've told you," I repeated dully. "She said she's getting stronger."

There was a pause.

Then Chrissie said in a falsely confident voice, "But she was out of her mind, just like you said, so half of it was probably just raving ..."

"She was sanest when she was trying to talk about Zira," I said, ignoring Chris and Chrissie's winces. "She was having real trouble stringing two words together, but that was when she seemed to know where she was, and know what she wanted to do. She just kept saying she had to see Crighton."

I turned away from the window and stared up into the rafters. Half the many perches were empty; every now and then, another owl would swoop in through one of the windows, returning from its night's hunting with a mouse in its beak.

"If Triphorm hadn't held me up," I said bitterly, "we might've got there in time. "The Headmistress is busy, Pride-Lander ... what's this rubbish, Pride-Lander?" Why couldn't she have just got out of the way?"

"Maybe she didn't want you to get there!" said Chrissie quickly. "Maybe - hang on - how fast d'you reckon she could've got down to the Forest? D'you reckon she could've beaten you and Crighton there?"

"Not unless she can turn herself into a bat or something," I said.

"Wouldn't put it past her," Chrissie muttered.

"We need to see Professor Grumpy," said Sian. "We need to find out whether she found Mrs Clutch."

"If she had the Scallywag Map on her, it would've been easy," I said.

"Unless Clutch was already outside the grounds," said Chrissie, "because it only shows up to the boundaries, doesn't - "

"Shh!" said Chris suddenly.

Somebody was climbing the steps up to the Owlery. I heard two voices arguing, coming closer and closer.

" - that's blackmail, that is, we could get into a lot of trouble for that - "

" - we've tried being polite, it's time to play dirty, like her. She wouldn't like the Ministry of Magic knowing what she did - "

"I'm telling you, if you put that in writing, it's blackmail!"

"Yeah, and you won't be complaining if we get a nice fat payoff, will you?"

The Owlery door banged open. Tanya and Geri came over the threshold, and froze at the sight of Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I.

"What're you doing here?" Chrissie and Tanya said at the same time.

"Sending a letter," Geri and I said in unison.

"What, at this time?" said Sian and Tanya.

"Yeah, got a problem with that, do you?" said Chris and Geri.

Tanya grinned. "Fine - we won't ask what you're doing, if you don't ask us," she said.

She was holding a sealed envelope in her hands. I glanced at it, but Tanya, whether accidentally or on purpose, shifted her hand so that the name on it was covered.

"Well, don't let us hold you up," she said, making a mock curtsey, and pointing at the door.

Chrissie didn't move. "Who're you blackmailing?" she said.

The grin vanished from Tanya's face. I saw Geri glance at Tanya, before smiling at Chrissie.

"Don't be stupid, I was only joking," she said easily.

"Didn't sound like it," said Chris.

Tanya and Geri looked at each other.

Then Tanya said abruptly, "I've told you before, keep your nose out if you like it the shape it is. Can't see why you would, but - "

"It's our business to know if you're blackmailing someone," said Chrissie, pointing to herself, Chris and Sian. "Geri's right, you could end up in serious trouble for that."

"Told you, I was joking," said Geri. She walked over to Tanya, pulled the letter out of her hands, and began attaching it to the leg of the nearest barn owl. "You're starting to sound a bit like our older sister, as well as Sian, you are, Chrissie. Carry on like this and you'll be made a Prefect."

"No, I won't!" said Chrissie hotly.

Geri carried the barn owl over to the window and it took off.

She turned round and grinned at Chrissie. "Well, stop telling people what to do then. See you later."

She and Tanya left the Owlery. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I stared at each other.

"you don't think they know something about all this, do you?" Sian whispered. "About Clutch and everything?"

"No," I said. "If it was something that serious, they'd tell someone. They'd tell Crighton."

Chrissie, however, was looking uncomfortable.

"What's the matter?" Chris asked her.

"Well ..." said Chrissie slowly, "I dunno if they would. They're ... they're obsessed with making money lately. I noticed it when I was hanging around with them - when - you know - "

"We weren't talking," I finished the sentence for her. "Yeah, but blackmail ..."

"Oh, don't tell me it's this joke shop idea they've got going on?" Sian snapped.

"I'm afraid it does, Sian," Chrissie said. Sian threw her hands up in the air in frustration at this, and Chrissie, seeing the questioning look on my face, said, "They, Perdy, Sam and Kat moved in with us after they fell out with their mother. Anyhoo, Tanya and Geri started making order forms when they were at their mum's and continued at the manor. Sian was annoyed by it, and that's why I thought they were doing it - as did the rest of our family, actually - but it looks like they really want to start one. They've only got a year left at Dragon Mort, and they keep going on about how it's time to think about their future. Even though they know we've got money, they won't dare to take it from us - not because they're afraid to ask, but because they didn't want to think that they were a charity .. or something. The point is, they need to get started, and they need to get the funding from somewhere."

"Well, Sian, it looks like you'll never stop them if they're getting serious about it," said Chris snidely.

"Oh, I'll try," said Sian, a determined glint in her eye. "I'm keeping a close eye in them, to see where those forms of theirs are and where Tanya and Geri are hiding them ... but I doubt I'll get anywhere, though." Sian sighed, then said, now sounding uncomfortable, "You don't seriously think they'll do anything illegal to get gold. Would they?"

"Wouldn't they?" said Chrissie, looking sceptical. "I dunno ... they don't exactly mind breaking rules, do they?"

"Yes, but this is the _law_ ," said Sian, looking scared. "This isn't some silly school rule ... they'll get a lot more than detention for blackmail! Chrissie ... maybe we'd better tell Perdy ..."

"Are you mad?" said Chrissie. "Tell Perdy? She'd probably do a Clutch and turn them in!" She stared at the window through which Tanya and Geri's owl had departed, then said, "Come on, let's get some breakfast."

"D'you think it's too early to go and see Professor Grumpy?" Sian said, as we went down the spiral staircase.

"Yes," I said. "She'd probably blast us through the door if we wake her at the crack of dawn, she'll think we're trying to attack her while she's asleep. Let's give it 'til break."

History of Magic had rarely gone so slowly. I kept checking Chris' watch, having finally discarded my own, but Chris' was moving so slowly I could have sworn it had stopped working too. The four of us were so tired that we could have happily put our heads down on the desks and slept; even Sian wasn't taking her usual notes, but was sitting with her head on her hand, gazing at Professor Yawn with her eyes out of focus.

When the bell finally rang, we hurried out into the corridors towards the Dark Arts classroom, and found Professor Grumpy leaving it. When we saw her, Sian's Scanner made a loud beeping noise, and Sian, without properly looking at it, pulled it out and quickly switched it off before she replaced it in her pocket. The noise alerted Professor Grumpy, for she jumped and pulled her wand out, looking for the attacker, but she calmed down quickly when she saw it was us. The eyelids of her normal eyes were drooping, giving her face an even more lopsided appearance than ever (considering the fact that her eyelids were drooping one after the other).

"Professor Grumpy?" I called, as we made our way through the crowd.

"Hello, Pride-Lander," growled Grumpy. One of her magical eyes followed a couple of passing first-years, who sped up, looking nervous; it rolled into the back of Grumpy's head and watched them around the corner before she spoke again. "Come in here."

She stood back to let us into her empty classroom, limped in after us and closed the door.

"Did you find her?" I asked, without preamble. "Mrs Clutch?"

"No," said Grumpy. She moved over to her desk, sat down, stretched out her wooden leg with a slight groan and pulled out her hip-flask.

"Did you use the Map?" I said.

"Of course," said Grumpy, taking a swig from her flask. "Took a leaf out of your book, Pride-Lander. Summoned it from my office into the Forest. She wasn't anywhere on there."

"So she _did_ Disapparate?" said Chrissie.

 _"You can't Disapparate in the grounds, Chrissie!"_ said Sian. "There are other ways she could have disappeared, aren't there, Professor?"

One of Grumpy's magical eyes quivered as it rested on Sian.

"You're another one who might think about a career as an Auror," she told her. "Mind works the right way, Dawson."

Sian flushed pink with pleasure.

"Well, she wasn't invisible," I said, "the Map shows invisible people. She must've left the grounds, then."

"But under her own steam?" said Sian eagerly. "Or because someone made her?"

"Yeah, someone could've - could've pulled her onto a broom and flown off with her, couldn't they?" said Chrissie quickly, looking hopefully at Grumpy, as if she, too, wanted to be told she had the makings of an Auror.

"We can't rule out kidnap," said Chris quickly, before Grumpy could say anything. "After all, we don't know what happened to her, or where she could be, or who she could be with. The question is _why_? _Why_ has she vanished? _Where_ has she disappeared off to? And _why_ did she leave so suddenly, when she clearly wanted to talk to Ma?"

Grumpy chuckled. "Well said, boy," Grumpy growled appreciatively. "You've got the makings of an Auror in you, too, Rickers."

Chris looked thrilled at this.

"So," said Chrissie, "d'you reckon she's somewhere in Dragsmede?"

"Could be anywhere," said Grumpy, shaking her head. "Only thing we know for sure is that she's not there."

She yawned widely, so that her scars stretched, and her lopsided mouth revealed a number of missing teeth.

Then she said, "Now, Crighton tells me you four fancy yourselves as investigators, but there's nothing you can do for Clutch. The Ministry'll be looking for her now, Crighton's notified them. Pride-Lander, you just keep your mind on the third task."

"What?" I said. "Oh, yeah ..."

I hadn't given the maze a single thought since I'd left it with Outsider the previous night.

"Should be right up your street, this one," said Grumpy, looking up at me and scratching her scarred chin. "From what Crighton's said, you've managed to get through stuff like this plenty of times. Broke your way through a series of obstacles guarding the Mirror of Wishes in your first year, didn't you?"

"We helped," Chris said quickly. "Sian, Chrissie and I helped."

Grumpy grinned. "Well, help her practice for this one, and I'll be very surprised if she doesn't win," she said. "In the meantime ... constant vigilance, Pride-Lander. Constant vigilance." She took another long draught from her hip-flask, and one of her magical eyes swivelled onto the window. The topmost part of the periscope was visible through it.

"You three" - her normal eyes were on Chris, Sian and Chrissie - "you three stick close to Pride-Lander, all right? I'm keeping an eye on things, but all the same ... you can never have too many eyes out."

0000

My parents sent our owl back the very next morning. It fluttered down beside me at the same moment that a tawny owl landed in front of Sian, clutching a copy of the _Daily Squabbler_ in its beak. She took the newspaper, scanned the first few pages, said, "Ha! He hasn't got wind of Clutch!", then joined Chris, Chrissie and I in reading what my parents had to say of the mysterious events of the night before last.

 _Kiara - what do you think you are playing at, walking off into the Forest with Kovu Outsider? I want you to swear to your mother and I, by return owl, that you are not going to go walking off with anyone else at night. There is somebody highly dangerous at Dragon Mort. It is clear to me that they wanted to stop Clutch seeing Crighton and you were probably feet away from them in the dark. You could have been killed._

 _Your name didn't get into the Goblet of Fire by accident. If someone's trying to attack you, they're on their last chance. Stay close to Chris, Sian and Chrissie, do not leave Lion-Heart Tower after hours, and arm yourself for the third task. Practice Stunning and Disarming. A few hexes wouldn't go amiss either. There's nothing you can do about Clutch. Keep your head down and look after yourself. Your mother and I are waiting for your letter giving us your word you won't stay out of bounds again._

 _Your mother sends her love, as do I._

 _Daddy_

(I should say that, for anyone who wants to know, that I got a letter from Grandmother Sarabi a few days later, reminding me what my parents had said about Kula and Uagadou's reputation, and also to look after myself and to keep myself focused on the task ahead.)

Great, I remember thinking to myself. Just great. I should have know my father would act the overprotective parent. Sure, it made a lot of sense, and it's nice to know he cared, but it was kind of frustrating.

"Who're they to lecture me about being out of bounds - especially my mother?" I said in mild indignation, as I folded up my parents' letter and folded it inside my robes. "After all the stuff she did at school?"

"They're worried about you, as parents should be!" said Sian sharply. "Just like Grumpy and Mina are worried! So listen to them!"

"No one's tried to attack me all year," I said. "No one's done anything to me at all - "

"Except put your name in the Goblet of Fire," said Sian. "And they must've done that for a reason, Kiara. Leo and Leona are right. Maybe they've been biding their time. Maybe this is the task they're going to get you."

"Look," I said impatiently, "let's say Leo and Leona are right, and someone Stunned Outsider to kidnap Clutch. Well, they _would've_ been in the trees near us, wouldn't they? But they waited 'til I was out of the way until they acted, didn't they? So it doesn't look like I'm their target, does it?"

"They couldn't have made it look like an accident if they'd murdered you in the Forest!" said Sian. "But if you die during a task - "

"They didn't care about attacking Outsider, did they?" I said. "Why didn't they just polish me off at the same time? They could've made it look like Outsider and I had a duel or something."

"Kiara, I don't understand it either," said Sian desperately. "I just know there are a lot of odd things going on, and I don't like it ... Grumpy's right - Leo and Leona are right - you've got to get in training for the third task, straight away. And you make sure you write back to Leo and Leona and promise them you're not going to go sneaking off alone again."

0000

The Dragon Mort grounds had never looked more inviting than when I had to stay indoors. For the next few days I spent all of my free time either in the library with Chris, Sian and Chrissie, looking up hexes, or else in empty classrooms, which we sneaked into to practice. I was concentrating on the Stunning Spell, which I had never used before then. The trouble was that practicing it involved certain sacrifices on Chris, Sian and Chrissie's part.

"Can't we kidnap Mrs Robbs?" Chrissie suggested during Monday lunchtime, as she lay flat on her back in the middle of our Charms classroom, having just been Stunned and re-awoken by me for the fifth time in a row. "Let's Stun her for a bit. Or you could use Dokey, Kiara, I bet she'd do anything to help you. I'm not complaining or anything" - she got gingerly to her feet, rubbing her backside - "but I'm aching all over ..."

"Well, you keep missing the cushions, don't you!" said Sian impatiently, rearranging the pile of cushions we had used for the Banishing Spell, which Winds had left in a cabinet. "Just try and fall backwards!"

"Once you're Stunned, you can't aim too well, S.D.!" said Chrissie angrily. "Why don't you or Chris take a turn?"

"Well, I think Kiara's got it now, anyway," said Chris hastily. "And we don't have to worry about Disarming, because she's been able to do that for ages ... I think we ought to start on some of these hexes this evening. What do you think, Sian?"

They looked down at the list we had made in the library.

"I think you're right, Chris," she said, studying the list carefully. "I like the look of this one, the Impediment Jinx. Should slow down anything that's trying to attack you, Kiara. We'll start with that one."

The bell rang. We hastily shoved the cushions back into Winds' cupboard, and slipped out of the classroom.

"See you at dinner!" said Sian, and she set off for Ancient Runes, as Chris headed for Arithmancy, while Chrissie and I headed towards North Tower, and Divination. Broad strips of dazzling gold sunlight fell across the corridor from the high windows. The sky outside was so brightly blue it looked as though it had been enamelled.

"It's going to be boiling in Crystals' room, he never puts out that fire," said Chrissie, as we started up the staircase towards the silver ladder and the trapdoor.

She was quite right. The dimly lit room was swelteringly hot. The fumes from the perfumed fire were heavier than ever. My head swam as I made my way over to one of the curtained windows. While Professor Crystals was looking the other way, disentangling his scarf from a lamp, I opened it an inch or so and settled back in my chintz armchair, so that a soft breeze played across my face. It was extremely comfortable.

"My dears," said Professor Crystals, sitting down in his winged armchair in front of the class and peering around at us all with his strangely enlarge eyes, "we have almost finished our work on planetary divination. Today, however, will be an excellent opportunity to examine the effects of Mars, for he is placed most interestingly at the present time. If you will all look this way, I will dim the lights ..."

He waved his wand and the lamps went out. The fire was the only source of light now. Professor Crystals bent down, and lifted, from under his chair, a miniature model of the solar system, contained within a glass dome. It was a beautiful thing; each of the moons glimmered in place around the nine planets and the fiery sun, all of them hanging in thin air beneath the glass. I watched lazily as Professor Crystals began to point out the fascinating angle Mars was making with Neptune. The heavily perfumed fumes washed over me, and the breeze from the window played across my face. I could hear an insect humming gently somewhere behind the curtain. My eyelids began to droop ...

I remember that I was riding on the back of an eagle owl, soaring through the clear blue sky towards an old, ivy-covered house set high on a hillside. Lower and lower we flew, the wind blowing pleasantly in my face, until we reached a dark and broken window in the upper storey of the house, and entered. We were then flying along a gloomy passageway, to a room at the very end ... through the door we went, into a dark room whose windows were boarded up ...

I had left the owl's back ... I was watching, as it fluttered across the room, into a chair with its back to me ... there were three dark shapes on the floor beside the chair ... they were all stirring ...

One was a huge snake ... the others were both humans ... a man and a woman ... they were both short ... the man was balding, with watery eyes and a pointed nose ... he was wheezing and sobbing on the hearth-rug in the woman's arms ... she had short hair, and sharp eyes that were framed by glasses ... she was holding the man's body rather reluctantly, as though she were wishing she was somewhere else ... and her eyes held a look that was and uncaring as she patted his back ...

"You are in luck, Worm," said a cold, high-pitched voice from the depths of the chair in which the owl had landed. "You are very fortunate indeed. Your blunder has not ruined everything. She is dead."

"My Lady!" gasped the man on the floor, from the woman's arms. "My Lady, I am ... I am so pleased ... and so sorry ..."

"As you should be!" came the woman's harsh, sharp voice. "Your foolish mistake almost cost us everything!"

"Indeed it did," the cold voice hissed softly. "Namzo, you are out of luck. I will not be feeding Wormy to you, after all ... but never mind, never mind ... there is still Kiara Pride-Lander ..."

The snake hissed. I could see its tongue fluttering.

"You could still kill him, my Lady," the woman's voice said quite carelessly. "You know that one of us here is not an incompetent fool."

The cold voice laughed at this. "Indeed I do, Alice, and how noble of you to sacrifice your husband for my cause ... but I'm afraid I am in need of you both for some time still. Now, Wormy," said the cold voice, turning its attention back on the man, "perhaps another reminder why I will not tolerate another blunder from you ... Alice, please stand aside ..."

"My Lady ... no ... I beg you ..."

The woman stepped away from the man, staring at him with a rather cruel expression, as the tip of a wand emerged from the depths of the chair. It was pointing at Wormy. _"Crucio,"_ said the cold voice.

Wormy screamed, screamed as though every nerve in his body was on fire, the screaming filled my ears as the scar on my forehead seared with pain; I was yelling, too ... Zira would hear me, would know I was there ...

"Kiara! _Kiara!_ "

I opened my eyes. I was lying on the floor of Professor Crystals' room with my eyes over my face. My scar was still burning so badly that my eyes were watering. The pain had been real. My classmates were all standing around me, and Chrissie was kneeling next to me, looking terrified.

"You all right?" she said.

"Of course she isn't!" said Professor Crystals, looking thoroughly excited. His great eyes loomed over me, gazing at me. "What was it, Pride-Lander? A premonition? An apparition? What did you see?"

"Nothing," I lied. I sat up, feeling myself shaking. I couldn't stop myself looking around, into the shadows behind me; Zira's voice had sounded so close ...

"You were clutching your scar!" said Professor Crystals. "You were rolling on the floor, clutching your scar! Come now, Pride-Lander, I have experience in these matters!"

I looked up at him.

"I need to go to the hospital wing, I think," I said. "Bad headache."

"My dear, you were undoubtedly stimulated by the extraordinary clairvoyant vibrations of my room!" said Professor Crystals. "If you leave now, you may lose the opportunity to see further than you have ever - "

"I don't want anything except a headache cure," I said.

I stood up. My classmates backed away. They all looked unnerved.

"See you later," I muttered to Chrissie, and I picked up my bag and headed for the trapdoor, ignoring Professor Crystals, who was wearing an expression of great frustration, as though he had just been denied a real treat.

When I reached the bottom of his stepladder, however, I did not set off for the hospital wing. I had no intention whatsoever of going there. My parents told me what to do if my scar hurt me again, as did Grandmother Sarabi (and the woman who I went to see, too), and I was going to take their advice: I was going straight to Crighton's office. I marched down the corridors, thinking about what I had seen in the dream ... it had been as vivid as the one which had awoken me in my grandmothers' cottage ... I ran over the details in my mind, trying to make sure I could remember them ... I had heard Zira accusing Wormy of making a blunder, and that his wife did not care for the punishment her husband got, or for him for that matter ... but the owl had brought good news, the blunder had been repaired, somebody was dead ... so Wormy was not going to be fed to the snake ... I, Kiara, was going to be fed to it instead ...

I walked right past the glass elevator that would take me up to Crighton's office without noticing. I blinked, looked around, realised what I had done and retraced my steps, stopping in front of it. I then took out a token Sian had given me (I asked her to give me a few when I returned to the common room the night when Mrs Clutch had disappeared). Once the doors had opened and I stepped inside, I said, "One for the Headmistress' office, please." The doors closed and hooks dropped from the ceiling. I had forgotten why they were there - until the elevator went zooming off around the school, and I grabbed on to one of those hooks and held onto it for dear life, and I didn't let go until I hit the ground again. I didn't even admire the view around me when the elevator went straight through one of the castle's walls, because of the shock of the elevator's speed, mixed in with the horror of the dream, left my mind in a sort of daze, and left no room for much else.

Once I stepped out of the elevator (which zoomed off as soon as I had stepped out of it), I was in front of a polished oak door with a brass door-knocker.

As I got closer to the door, I heard voices from inside the office. I hesitated, listening hard.

"Crighton, I'm afraid I don't see the connection, don't see it at all!" It was the voice of the Minister for Magic, Cornelia Sweets. "Lynn says Bernard's perfectly capable of getting himself lost. I agree we would have expected to have found him by now, but all the same, we've no evidence of foul play, Crighton, none at all. As for his disappearance being linked with Bea Clutch's!"

"And what do you think's happened to Bea Clutch, Minister?" said Grumpy's growling voice.

"I see two possibilities, Aoife," said Sweets. "Either Clutch has finally cracked - more than likely, I'm sure you'll agree, given her personal history - lost her mind, and gone wandering off somewhere - "

"She wandered extremely quickly, if that is the case, Cornelia," said Crighton calmly.

"Or else - well ..." Sweets sounded embarrassed. "Well, I'll reserve judgement until after I've seen the place where she was found, but you say it was just past the Beauxbatons carriage? Crighton, you know what the man _is_?"

"I consider him to be a very able Headmaster - and an excellent dancer," said Crighton quietly.

"Crighton, come!" said Sweets angrily. "Don't you think you might be prejudiced in his favour because of Mina? They don't all turn out harmless - if, indeed, you can call Mina harmless, with that monster fixation she's got - "

"I no more suspect Monsieur Legrand than Mina," said Crighton, just as calmly. "I think it possible that it is you who are prejudiced, Cornelia."

"Can we wrap up this discussion?" growled Grumpy.

"Yes, yes, let's go down into the grounds, then," said Cornelia impatiently.

"No, it's not that," said Grumpy, "it's just that Pride-Lander wants a word with you, Crighton. She's just outside the door."


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

 **The Penseive**

 **KIARA**

The door of the office opened.

"Hello, Pride-Lander," said Grumpy. "Come in, then."

I walked inside. I had been inside Crighton's office once before this point; it was a very beautiful, circular room, lined with portraits of previous Headmasters and mistresses of Dragon Mort, all of whom were fast asleep, their chests rising and falling gently.

Cornelia Sweets was standing beside Crighton's desk, wearing her usual pinstriped cloak.

"Kiara!" said Sweets jovially, moving forwards. "How are you?"

"Fine," I lied.

"We were just talking about the night when Mrs Clutch turned up in the grounds," said Sweets. "It was you who found her, was it not?"

"Yes," I said. Then, felling it was pointless to pretend that I hadn't overheard what they had been saying, I added, "I didn't see Monsieur Legrand anywhere, though, and he'd have a job hiding, wouldn't he?"

Crighton smiled behind Sweets' back, her eyes twinkling and her lips stretched tightly, as though it was the first time she had smiled in a long time - which wasn't surprising, seeing as her eyes were just as red as I had seen them at the Yule Ball.

"Yes, well," said Sweets, looking embarrassed, "we're about to go for a short walk in the grounds, Kiara, if you'll excuse us ... perhaps if you just go back to your class - "

"I wanted to talk to you, Professor," I said quickly, looking at Crighton, who gave me a swift, searching look.

"Wait here for me, Kiara," she said. "Our examination of the grounds will not take long."

They trooped out in silence past me, and closed the door. After a minute or so, I heard the clunks of Grumpy's wooden leg growing fainter in the corridor below. I looked around.

"Hello, Kenna," I said.

Kenna, Professor Crighton's phoenix, was standing on her golden perch beside the door. the size of a swan, with magnificent scarlet and gold plumage, she swished her long tail and blinked benignly at me.

I sat down in a chair in front of Crighton's desk. For several minutes, I sat and watched the old Headmasters and mistresses snoozing in their frames, thinking about what I had just heard, and running my fingers over my scar. It had stopped hurting now.

I felt much calmer, somehow, sitting there in Crighton's office, knowing I would shortly be telling her about the dream. I looked up at the walls behind the desk. The patched and battered old Sorting Chest was standing on a shelf. A glass case next to it held a magnificent silver sword, with large rubies set into the hilt, which I recognised as the one I myself had pulled out of the Sorting Chest in my second year. The sword had once belonged to Louisa Lion-Heart, founder of my house. I was gazing at it, remembering how it had come to my aid when I had thought all hope was lost, when I noticed a patch of silvery light, dancing and shimmering on the glass case. I looked around for the source of light, and saw a sliver of silver-white shining brightly from within a black cabinet behind me, whose door had not been closed properly. I hesitated, glanced at Kenna, then got up, walked across the office, and I pulled the cabinet door open.

A shallow stone basin lay there, with odd carvings around the edge; runes and symbols that I still do not recognise. The silvery light was coming from the basin's contents, which were like nothing I had ever seen before. I could not tell whether the substance was liquid or gas. It was a bright, whitish silver, and it was moving ceaselessly; the surface of it became ruffled like water beneath wind, and then, like clouds separated and swirled smoothly. It looked like light made liquid - or like wind made solid - I couldn't make up my mind.

I wanted to touch it, to find out what it felt like, but nearly four years' experience of the magical world told me that sticking my hand into a bowl of some unknown substance was a very stupid thing to do. I therefore pulled my wand out of the inside of my robes, cast a nervous glance around the office, looked back at the contents of the basin, and prodded them. The surface of the silvery stuff inside the basin began to swirl very fast.

I bent closer, my head right inside the cabinet. The silvery substance had become transparent; it looked like glass. I looked down into it, expecting to see the stone bottom of the basin - and saw instead an enormous room below the surface of the mysterious substance, a room into which I seemed to be looking through a circular window in the ceiling.

The room was dimly lit; I thought it might even be underground, for there were no windows, merely torches in brackets, such as the ones that illuminated the walls of Dragon Mort. Lowering my face so that my nose was a mere inch away from the glassy substance, I saw that rows and rows of witches and wizards were sat around every wall on what seemed to be benches rising in levels. An empty chair stood in the very centre of the room. There was something about the chair that gave me an ominous feeling. Chains encircled the arms of it, as though its occupants were usually tied to it.

I wondered where this place was, for it certainly wasn't Dragon Mort; I had never seen a room like that in the castle. Moreover, the crowd in the mysterious room at the bottom of the basin was composed of adults, and I knew there were not nearly that many teachers at Dragon Mort. They seemed, I thought, to be waiting for something; even though I could only see the tops of their pointed hats, they all seemed to be facing in one direction, and nobody was talking to anybody else.

The basin being circular, and the room I was observing square, I could not make out what was going on in the corner of it. I leant even closer, tilting my head, trying to see ...

The tip of my nose touched the strange substance into which I was staring.

Crighton's office gave an almighty lurch - I was thrown forwards and pitched headfirst into the substance inside the basin -

But my head did not hit the stone bottom. I was falling through something icy cold and black; it was like being sucked into a dark whirlpool -

And suddenly, I found myself sitting on a bench at the end of the room inside the basin, a bench raised high above the others. I looked up at the high stone ceiling, expecting to see the circular window through which I had just been staring, but there was nothing there but dark, solid stone.

Breathing hard and fast, I looked around me. Not one of the witches and wizards in the room (and there were at least two hundred of them) was looking at me. Not one of them seemed to have noticed that a fourteen-year-old girl had just dropped from the ceiling into their midst. I turned to the witch next to me on the bench, and uttered a loud cry of surprise that reverberated around the silent room.

I was sitting right next to Susan Crighton.

"Professor!" I said, in kind of strangled whisper. "I'm sorry - I didn't mean to - I was just looking at that basin in your cabinet - I - where are we?"

But Crighton didn't move or speak. She ignored me completely. Like every other wizard on the benches, she was staring into the far corner of the room, where there was a door.

I gazed, nonplussed, at Crighton, then around at the silently watchful crowd, then back at Crighton. And then it dawned on me ...

Once before, I had found myself somewhere that nobody could see or hear me. That time, I had fallen through a page in an enchanted diary, right into somebody else's memory ... and unless I was very much mistaken, something of the sort had happened again ...

I raised my right hand, hesitated, and then waved it energetically in front of Crighton's face. Crighton did not blink, look around at me, or indeed move at all. And that, in my opinion, settled the matter. Crighton would never ignore me like that. I was inside a memory, and this was not the present-day Crighton. Yet it couldn't have been that long ago ... the Crighton who was sitting next to me had a bit more of the caramel in her hair than the silver, which had crept in a few places. But what was the place we were in? And what were all these wizards waiting for?

I looked around more carefully. The room, as I had suspected when observing it from above, was almost certainly underground - more of a dungeon than a room, I thought. There was a bleak and forbidding air about the place; there were no pictures on the walls, no decorations at all; just these serried rows of benches rising in levels all around the room, all positioned so that they had a clear view of that chair with the chains on its arms.

Before I could reach any conclusions about the place in which we were in, I heard footsteps. The door in the corner of the dungeon opened, and three people entered it - or at least, one woman, flanked by two Dementors (and I knew they were Dementors and not Stingers because they didn't have wings which made a droning, buzzing noise, they didn't have spines sticking out of their backs, and they didn't have a large, ugly, terrifyingly, blood-red, always moving eye in the middle of its hood).

My insides went cold. The Dementors, tall, hooded creatures whose faces were covered, were gliding slowly towards the chair in the centre of the room, each grasping one of the woman's arms with their dead and rotten-looking hands. The woman between them looked as though she was going to faint, and I couldn't blame her ... I knew well enough from the Stingers that the Dementors could not touch me inside a memory, but the Dementors power was the same as the Stingers power, which I remembered only too well. The watching crowd recoiled slightly as the Dementors placed the woman in the chained chair and glided back out of the room. The door swung shut behind them.

I looked down at the woman now sitting in the chair, and saw that it was Kula.

Unlike Crighton, Kula looked much younger; her hair was black. She was not dressed in her sleek furs, but in thin and ragged robes. she was shaking. Even as I watched, the chains on the arms of the chair glowed suddenly gold, and snaked their way up her arms, binding her there.

"Ifu Kula," said a curt voice to my left. I looked around, and saw Mrs Clutch standing up in the middle of the bench beside me. Clutch's hair was dark, her face was much less lined, and she looked fit and alert. "You have been brought from Azkaban to give evidence to the Ministry of Magic. You have given us to understand that you have important information for us."

Kula straightened herself as best she could, tightly bound to the chair.

"I have, ma'am," she said, and although her voice was very scared, I could still hear the familiar unctuous note in it. "I wish to be of use to the Ministry. I wish to help. I - I know that the Ministry is trying to - to round up the last of the Scarlet Lady's supporters. I am eager to assist in any way I can ..."

There was a murmur around the benches. Some of the witches and wizards were surveying Kula with interest, others with pronounced mistrust. Then I heard, quite distinctly, from Crighton's other side, a familiar, growling voice saying, "Filth."

I leant forwards so that I could see past Crighton. Crazy-Head Grumpy was sitting there - though there was a very noticeable difference in her appearance. She did not have her four magical eyes on her forehead, but just her two normal ones. Both were looking down upon Kula, and both were narrowed in intense dislike.

"Clutch is going to let her out," Grumpy breathed quietly to Crighton. "She's done a deal with her. Took me six months to track her down, and Clutch is going to let her go if she's got enough new names. Let's hear her information, I say, and throw her straight back to the Dementors."

Crighton made a small noise of dissent through her small, crooked nose.

"Ah, I was forgetting ... you don't like the Dementors, do you, Susan?" said Grumpy, with a sardonic smile.

"No," said Crighton calmly, "I'm afraid I don't. I have long felt the Ministry is wrong to ally itself with such creatures."

"But for filth like this ..." Grumpy said softly.

"You say you have names for us, Kula," said Mrs Clutch. "Let us hear them, please."

"You must understand," said Kula hurriedly, that She Who Must Not Be Named operated always in the greatest secrecy ... she preferred that we - I mean to say, her supporters - and I regret now, very deeply, that I ever counted myself among them - "

"Get on with it," sneered Grumpy.

" - we never knew the names of every one of our fellows - she alone knew exactly who we all were - "

"Which was a wise move, wasn't it, as it prevented someone like you, Kula, turning all of them in," muttered Grumpy.

"You say you have _some_ names for us?" said Mrs Clutch.

"I - I do," said Kula breathlessly. "And these were important supporters, mark you. People I saw with my own eyes doing her bidding. I give this information as a sign that I fully and totally renounce her, and am filled with a remorse so deep I can barely - "

"These names are?" said Mrs Clutch sharply.

Kula took a deep breath.

"There was Antonia Dali," she said. "I - I saw her torture countless Muggles and - and non-supporters of the Scarlet Lady."

"And helped her do it," murmured Grumpy.

"We have already apprehended Dali," said Clutch. "She was caught shortly after yourself."

"Indeed?" said Kula, her eyes widening. "I - I am delighted to hear it!"

But she didn't look it. I could tell that this news came as a real blow to her. One of her names was worthless.

"Any others?" said Clutch coldly.

"Why, yes ... there was Rothenberg," said Kula hurriedly. "Evannah Rothenberg."

"Rothenberg is dead," said Clutch. "She was caught shortly after you were, too. She preferred to fight rather than coming quietly, and was killed in the struggle."

"Took a bit of me with her, though," said Grumpy to my right. I looked around at her once more, and saw her indicating a large chunk out of her nose to Crighton.

"No - no more than Rothenberg deserved!" said Kula, a real note of panic in her voice now. I could see that she was starting to worry that none of her information would be of any use to the Ministry. Kula's eyes darted towards the door in the corner, behind which the Dementors undoubtedly still stood, waiting.

"Any more?" said Clutch.

"Yes!" said Kula. "There was Thorn - she helped murder the McConnells! Murgia - she specialised in the Imperius Curse, forced countless of people to do horrible things! Roscoe, who was a spy, and passed She Who Must Not Be Named useful information from inside the Ministry itself!"

I could tell that this time, Kula had struck gold. The watching crowd were all murmuring together.

"Roscoe?" said Mrs Clutch, nodding to a wizard sitting in front of her, who began scribbling upon his piece of parchment. "Augusta Roscoe of the Department of Mysteries?"

"The very same," said Kula eagerly. "I believe she used a network of well-placed wizards, both inside the Ministry and out, to collect information - "

"But Thorn and Murgia, we have," said Mrs Clutch. "Very well, Kula, if that is all, you will be returned to Azkaban while we decide - "

"Not yet!" cried Kula, looking quite desperate. "Wait, I have more!"

I could see her sweating in the torchlight, her white skin contrasting strongly with her black hair.

"Triphorm!" she shouted. "Tiana Triphorm!"

"Triphorm has been cleared by this council," said Clutch coldly. "She has been vouched for by Susan Crighton."

"No!" shouted Kula, straining at the chains which bound her to the chair. "I assure you! Tiana Triphorm is a Love Destroyer!"

Crighton got to her feet. "I have given evidence already on this matter," she said calmly. "Tiana Triphorm was indeed a Love Destroyer. However, she rejoined our side before Lady Zira's downfall and turned spy for us, at great personal risk. She is now no more a Love Destroyer than I am."

I turned to look at Crazy-Head Grumpy. She was wearing a look of deep scepticism behind Crighton's back.

"Very well, Kula," Clutch said coldly, "you have been of assistance. I shall review your case. You will return to Azkaban in the meantime ..."

Mrs Clutch's voice fade. I looked around; the dungeon was dissolving as though it was made of smoke; everything was fading, I could see only my own body, all else was swirling darkness ...

And then, the dungeon returned. I was sitting in a different seat; still on the highest bench, but this time to the left side of Mrs Clutch. The atmosphere seemed quite different; relaxed, even cheerful. The witches and wizards all around the walls were talking to each other, almost as though they were at some sort of sporting event. A wizard halfway up the rows of benches opposite caught my eye. He had short blond hair, was wearing magenta robes, and was sucking the end of an acid-green quill. It was, unmistakeably, a younger Peter Meter. I looked around; Crighton was sitting beside me again, wearing different robes. Mrs Clutch looked tireder and somehow fiercer, gaunter ... I understood. It was a different memory, a different day ... a different trial.

The door in the corner opened, and Lynn Baxter walked into the room.

This was not, however, a Lynn Baxter gone to seed, but a Lynn Baxter who was clearly at the height of her Quidditch-playing fitness. Her nose wasn't broken now; she was tall, lean and muscly. Baxter looked nervous as she sat down in the chained chair, but it did not bind her there, as it had bound Kula, and Baxter, perhaps taking heart from this, glanced around at the watching crowd, waved at a couple of them, and managed a small smile.

"Lynn Baxter, you have been brought here in front of the Council of Magical Law to answer charges relating to the activities of the Love Destroyers," said Mrs Clutch. "We have heard the evidence against you, and are about to reach our verdict. do you have anything to add to your testimony before we pronounce judgement?"

I couldn't believe my ears. _Lynn Baxter, a Love Destroyer?_

"Only," said Baxter, smiling awkwardly, "well - I know I've been a bit of an idiot - "

One or two of the witches and wizards in the surrounding seat smiled indulgently. Mrs Clutch did not appear to share those feelings. She was staring down at Lynn Baxter with an expression of the utmost severity and dislike.

"You never spoke a truer word, girl," someone muttered drily to Crighton behind me. I looked around, and saw Grumpy sitting there again. "If I didn't know she'd always been dim, I'd have said some of those Bludgers had permanently affected her brain ..."

"Lynnette Baxter, you were caught passing information to Lady Zira's supporters," said Mrs Clutch. "For this, I suggest a term of imprisonment in Azkaban lasting no less than - "

But there was an angry outcry from the surrounding benches. Several of the witches and wizards around the walls stood up, shaking their heads, and even their fists, at Mrs Clutch.

"But I've told you, I had no idea!" Baxter called earnestly over the crowd's babble, her round blue eyes widening. "None at all! Old Roscoe was a friend of my mum's ... never crossed my mind she was in with She-You-Know! I thought I was collecting information for our side! And Roscoe kept talking about getting me a job in the Ministry later on ... once my Quidditch days are over, you know ... I mean, I can't keep getting hit by Bludgers for the rest of my life, can I?"

There were titters from the crowd.

"It will be put to the vote," said Mrs Clutch coldly. She turned to the right-hand side of the dungeon. "The jury will please raise their hands ... those in favour of imprisonment ..."

I looked towards the right-hand side of the dungeon. Not one person raised their hand. Many of the witches and wizards around the walls began to clap. One of the wizards on the jury stood up.

"Yes?" barked Clutch.

"We'd just like to congratulate Miss Baxter on her splendid performance for England in the Quuidditch match against Belgium on Saturday," the wizard said breathlessly.

Mrs Clutch looked furious. The dungeon was ringing with applause now. Baxter got to her feet and curtseyed, beaming.

"Despicable," Mrs Clutch spat at Crighton, sitting down as Baxter walked out of the dungeon. "Roscoe get her a job indeed ... the day Lynn Baxter joins us will be a very sad day for the Ministry ..."

And the dungeon dissolved again. When it had returned, I looked around. Crighton and I were still sitting beside Mrs Clutch, but the atmosphere could not have been more different. there was total silence, broken only by the loud, shaky breaths of a wispy, frail-looking wizard in the seat next to Mrs Clutch. He was clutching a handkerchief to his mouth with trembling hands. I looked up at Clutch, and saw that she looked gaunter, and greyer than ever before. A nerve was twitching in her temple.

"Bring them in," she said, and her voice echoed through the silent dungeon.

The door in the corner opened yet again. Six Dementors entered this time, flanking a group of three people. I saw the people in the crowd turn to look up at Mrs Clutch. A few of them whispered to each other.

The Dementors placed each of the three people in the three chairs with chained arms which now stood on the dungeon floor. There was a thickset woman who stared blankly up at Clutch, a thinner, more nervous-looking man, whose eyes were darting around the crowd, and a girl in her late teens, who looked nothing short of petrified. She was shivering, her straw-coloured hair was all over her face, her freckled skin milk-white. The wispy little wizard beside Clutch began to hyperventilate, whimpering and tearing much of his tissue as he did so.

Clutch stood up. She looked down upon the three in front of her, and there was pure hatred in her face.

"You have been brought here before the Council of Magical Law," she said clearly, "so that we may pass judgement on you, for a crime so heinous - "

"Mother," said the girl with straw-coloured hair. "Mother ... please ..."

" - that we have rarely heard the like of it within this court," said Clutch, speaking more loudly, drowning out her daughter's voice. "We have heard the evidence against you. The three of you - even though there are supposed to be four, but rest assured we _shall_ find her - stand accused of capturing an Auror - Fiona Bore - and subjecting her to the Cruciatus Curse, believing her to have knowledge of the present whereabouts of your exiled mistress, She Who Must Not Be Named - "

"Mother, I didn't!" shrieked the girl in chains below. "I didn't, I swear it, Mother, don't send me back to the Dementors - "

"You are further accused," bellowed Mrs Clutch, "of using the Cruciatus Curse on Fiona Bore's husband, when she would not give you information. You planned to restore She Who Must Not Be Named to power, and to resume the lives of violence you presumably led while she was strong. I now ask the jury - "

"Father!" the girl screamed below, and the wispy little wizard beside Clutch began to rock backwards and forwards, tearing his tissue harder. "Father, stop her, Father, I didn't do it, it wasn't me!"

"I now ask the jury," shouted Mrs Clutch, "to raise their hands if they believe, as I do, that these crimes deserve a life sentence in Azkaban."

In unison, the witches and wizards along the right-hand side of the dungeon raised their hands. the crowd around the walls began to clap as it had for Baxter, their faces full of savage triumph.

"No! Father, no! I didn't do it, I didn't do it, I didn't know! Don't send me there, don't let her!"

The Dementors were gliding back into the room. The girl's two companions rose quietly from their seats; the nervous-looking man looked up at Clutch and called, in a surprisingly strong, clear voice, "Katalina asked me to pass on a message to you, Clutch: the Scarlet Lady will return! Throw us in Azkaban, we will wait! She will rise again and will come for us, she will reward us beyond any of her other supporters! We alone were faithful! We alone tried to find her!"

But the girl was trying to fight the Dementors off, even though I could see their cold, draining power start to affect her. The crowd were jeering, some of them on their feet, as the man swept out of the dungeon, and the girl continued to struggle.

"I'm your daughter!" she screamed up at Clutch. "I'm your daughter!"

"You are no daughter of mine!" bellowed Clutch, her eyes bulging suddenly. "I have no daughter!"

The wispy wizard beside her gave a gasp, and slumped in his seat. He had fainted. Clutch appeared not to have noticed.

"Take them away!" Clutch roared at the Dementors, spit flying from her mouth. "Take them away, and may they rot there!"

"Mother! Mother, I wasn't involved! No! No! Mother, please!"

"I think, Kiara, it is time to return to my office," said a quiet voice in my ear.

I started. I looked around. Then I looked on my other side.

There was a Susan Crighton sitting on my right, watching Clutch's daughter being dragged away by the Dementors - and there was a Susan Crighton on my left, looking right at me.

"Come," said the Crighton on my left, and she put her hand under my elbow. I felt myself rising into the air; the dungeon dissolved around me; for a moment, all was blackness, and then I felt as though I had done a slow-motion somersault, suddenly landing flat on my feet, in what seemed like the dazzling light of Crighton's sunlit office. The stone basin was shimmering in the cabinet in front of me, and Susan Crighton was standing beside me.

"Professor," I gasped, "I know I shouldn't've - I didn't mean - the cabinet door was sort of open and - "

"I quite understand," said Crighton. She lifted the basin, carried it over to her desk, placed it upon the polished top, and sat down in the chair behind it. She motioned for me to sit down opposite her.

I did so, staring at the stone basin. The contents had returned to their original, silvery white state, swirling and rippling beneath my gaze.

"What is it?" I asked shakily. "And how come Sian never told me about it?"

A flicker of pain flashed across Crighton's eyes at the mention of Sian's name, which vanished quickly, as she took a deep breath and said, "This is called a Pensieve, Kiara, and Sian never told you about it because I asked her not to say anything about it to you. I'm sorry for keeping this from you, Kiara, but I do not wish to divulge all of my secrets to you, until I have to."

I nodded slowly, then said, "Why do you use it, ma'am?"

"I use it, Kiara," said Crighton, "because I sometimes find, and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind."

"Er," was all I said, for I couldn't truthfully say that I had ever felt anything of the sort (although, since writing this and looking back through my important memories, I'm starting to understand what Crighton meant).

"At these times," said Crighton, indicating the stone basin, "I use the Pensieve. One simply siphons the excess thoughts from one's mind, pours them into the basin, and examines them at one's leisure. It becomes easier to spot patterns and links, you understand, when they are in this form."

"You mean ... that stuff's your _thoughts_?" I said, staring at the swirling white substance in the basin.

"Certainly," said Crighton. "Let me show you."

Crighton drew her wand out of the inside of her robes, and placed the tip into her own silvery hair, streaked with caramel, near her temple. When she took the wand away, hair seemed to be clinging to it - but then I saw that it was in fact a glistening strand of the same strange, silvery white substance that filled the Pensieve. Crighton added this fresh thought to the basin, and, astonishingly, I saw my own face swimming around the surface of the bowl.

Crighton placed her long hands on either side of the Pensieve and swirled it, rather as a gold prospector would swirl for fragments of gold ... and I saw my own face change smoothly into Triphorm's, who opened her mouth, and spoke to the ceiling, her voice echoing slightly. "It's coming back ... Kula's too ... stronger and clearer than ever ..."

"A connection I could have made without assistance," Crighton sighed, "but never mind." She peered at me, as I gasped at Triphorm's face, which was continuing to swirl around the bowl. "I was using the Pensieve when Mrs Sweets arrived for our meeting, and put it away rather hastily. Undoubtedly I did not fasten the cabinet door properly. Naturally, it would have attracted your attention."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

Crighton shook her head.

"Curiosity is not a sin," she said. "But we should exercise caution with our curiosity ... yes, indeed ..."

Frowning slightly, she prodded the thoughts within the basin with the tip of her wand. Instantly, a figure rose out of it, a plump, scowling boy of around sixteen, who began to revolve slowly, with his feet still in the basin. He took no notice whatsoever of Professor Crighton or myself. When he spoke, his voice echoed as Triphorm's had done, as though it was coming from the depths of the stone basin: "She put a hex on me, Professor Crighton, and I was only teasing her, ma'am, I only said I'd seen her kissing Freddie behind the greenhouse last Thursday ..."

"But why, Bernard," said Crighton sadly, looking up at the now silently revolving boy, "why did you have to follow her in the first place?"

"Bernard?" I whispered, looking up at him. "Is that - was that Bernard Jenkins?"

"Yes," said Crighton, prodding the thoughts in the basin again; Bernard sank back into them, and they became silvery and opaque once more. "That was Bernard as I remember him at school."

The silvery light from the Pensieve illuminated Crighton's face, and it struck me suddenly how very old she looked. I knew, of course, that Crighton was getting on in years, but somehow I had never really thought of Crighton as an old woman.

"So, Kiara," said Crighton quietly. "Before you got lost in my thoughts, you wanted to tell me something."

"Yes," I said. "Professor - I was in Divination just now, and - er - I fell asleep."

I hesitated here, wondering if a reprimand was coming, but Crighton merely said, "Quite understandable. Continue."

"Well, I had a dream," I said. "A dream about Zira. She was torturing Wormy, as his wife looked on ... you know who Wormy and his wife - "

"I do know," said Crighton, promptly. "Please continue."

"Zira's got a letter from an owl. She said something like, Wormy's blunder had been repaired. She said someone was dead. Then she said, Wormy wouldn't be fed to the snake - there was a snake beside her chair. She said - she said she'd be feeding me to it instead. Wormy's wife then spoke up, and said something like, she would let Zira kill her husband, for she would do his job for Zira, but Zira wants both of them alive for something. Then she told Wormy's wife to get out of the way, and Zira did the Cruciatus Curse on Wormy - and my scar hurt," I said. "It woke me up, it hurt so badly."

Crighton merely looked at me.

"Er - that's all," I said.

"I see," said Crighton quietly. "I see. Now, has your scar hurt at any other time this year, excepting the time it woke you up over the summer - and discovering an important piece of information concerning Bernard Jenkins from that dream since you've been here?"

"No, I - how did you know about what I know about Bernard Jenkins?" I said, astonished.

"You are not the only one who is in correspondence with your parents," said Crighton. "I have also been in contact with them ever since they left Dragon Mort last year. It was I who suggested the mountain-side cave as the safest place for them to stay."

Crighton got up and began walking up and down behind her desk. Every now and then, she placed her wand tip to her temple, removed another shining silver thought, and added it to the Pensieve. The thoughts inside began to swirl so fast that I couldn't make out anything clearly; it was merely a blur of colours.

"Professor?" I said quietly, after a couple of minutes.

Crighton stopped pacing, and looked at me.

"My apologies," she said quietly. She sat back down at her desk.

"D'you - d'you know why my scar's hurting me?"

Crighton looked very intently at me for a moment, and then said, "I have a theory, no more than that ... It is my belief that your scar hurts both when Lady Zira is near you, and when she is feeling a particularly strong surge of hatred."

"But ... why?"

"Because you and she are connected by the curse that failed," said Crighton. "That is no ordinary scar."

"So you think ... that dream ... did it really happen?"

"It is possible," said Crighton. "I would say - probable. Kiara - did you see Zira?"

"No," I said. "Just the back of her chair. But - there wouldn't have been anything to see, would there? I mean, she hasn't got a body, has she? But ... but then how could she have held the wand?" I said slowly.

"How indeed?" muttered Crighton. "How indeed ..."

Neither of us spoke for a while. Crighton was gazing across the room, every now and then placing her wand tip to her temple, and adding another shining, silver thought to the seething mass within the Pensieve.

"Professor," I said at last, "do you think she's getting stronger?"

"Zira?" said Crighton, looking at me over the Pensieve. It was the characteristic, piercing look Crighton had given me on other occasions, and always made me feel as though Crighton was seeing right through me, in a way that even Grumpy's magical eyes never could. "Once again, Kiara, I can only give you my suspicions."

Crighton sighed again, and she looked older, and wearier, than ever.

"The years of Zira's ascent to power," she said, "were marked with disappearances, which were kept from the public because of Lord Voldemort, which I only know about because, of course, I am the one person that Zira most fears, and because the Ministry had the decency to let me know what was happening. Getting back to disappearances, though, Bernard Jenkins had vanished without a trace in the place where Zira was certainly known to be last. Mrs Clutch, too, has disappeared ... within these very grounds. And there was a third disappearance, one which the Ministry, I regret to say, does not consider of any importance. Her name was Aisha Ancarra, who lived in the village where Zira's mother grew up, and she has not been seen since last August. You see, I read the Muggle newspapers, unlike most of my Ministry friends."

Crighton looked very seriously at me. "These disappearances seem to me to be linked. The Ministry disagrees - as you may have heard, while waiting outside my office."

I nodded. Silence fell between us again, Crighton extracting her thoughts every now and then. I felt as though I ought to go, but my curiosity held me in my chair.

"Professor?" I said again.

"Yes, Kiara?" said Crighton.

"Er ... could I ask you about ... that court thing I was in ... in the Pensieve?"

"You could," said Crighton heavily. "I attended it many times, but some trials come back to me more clearly than others ... particularly now ..."

"You know - you know the trial you found me in? The one with Clutch's daughter? Well ... were they talking about Nikita's parents?"

Crighton gave me a sharp look.

"Has Nikita never told you why she has been brought up by her grandfather?" she said.

I shook my head, wondering, as I did so, how I could have failed to ask Nikita this, in almost four years of knowing her.

"Yes, they were talking about Nikita's parents," said Crighton. "Her mother, Fiona, was an Auror just like Professor Grumpy. She and her husband were tortured for information about Zira's whereabouts after she lost her powers, as you heard."

"So they're dead?" I said quietly.

"No," said Crighton, her voice full of a bitterness I had never heard there before, "they are insane. They are both in St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I believe Nikita visits them, with her grandfather, during the holidays. They do not recognise her."

I sat there, horror-struck. I had never known ... never, in four years, had I bothered to find out ...

"The Bores were very popular," said Crighton. "The attacks on them came after Zira's fall from power, just when everyone thought they were safe. These attacks caused a wave of fury such as I have never known. The Ministry was under great pressure to catch those who had done it. Unfortunately, the Bores' evidence was - given their condition - none too reliable."

"Then Mrs Clutch's daughter might not have been involved?" I said slowly.

Crighton shook her head. "As to that, I have no idea."

"Ma'am, the man who spoke to Mrs Clutch at the end of the trial, who was he?" I asked.

"He was a Mr Rakto Liu, Kiara. Why do you ask?"

"Well, it's just that he knew the woman ... Katalina I believe he called her, who escaped. Hoe did she escape, exactly?" I said, wanting to make sense of this. "And how did she get captured?"

Another flicker of pain mixed with fear flashed across Crighton's eyes, as she took a deep breath, and said, "Well Kiara, Katalina Outsider (as is her name now) put up a good fight with the Aurors, and escaped them before they could catch her. Where she fled to, I do not know; but what I do know is that she was captured a few years later, after the attack she did on that poor ... little ... girl ... an attack she had apparently been planning for a while, for she laughed about it during her trial ..." And then, to my surprise, Crighton put her head in her hands and burst into tears. "Oh, my p-poor, d-d-darling Sian ..."

I let Crighton cry for a while, astonished at what I had just heard. After Crighton's tears had subsided, I said, "Sian? What does Sian have to do with anything? And what happened to her, exactly?"

Crighton dried her eyes quickly, raised her head and said, "Listen, Kiara ... Sian, my husband, the rest of my children and I agreed that, until Sian was comfortable with telling everyone about her past, we would keep it secret. So please don't pester her, my husband, my other children or myself, until she is ready to tell. All right?"

I looked at Crighton for a time, thinking ... Yes, I was curious, but Sian was my friend - well, practically my sister - and seeing as her mother was Headmistress of the school, and that I have a lot of respect for her family, I couldn't say no, so I nodded.

Crighton smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Kiara."

I then sat in silence once more, watching the contents of the Pensieve swirl. There were two more questions I was burning to ask ... but they concerned the guilt of living people ...

"Er," I said, "Miss Baxter ..."

" ... has never been accused of any Dark activity since," said Crighton calmly.

"Right," I said hastily, staring at the contents of the Pensieve again, which were swirling more slowly now that Crighton had stopped adding thoughts. "And ... er ..."

But the Pensieve seemed to be asking my question for me. Triohorm's face was swimming on the surface again. Crighton glanced down into it, and then up at me.

"No more has Professor Triphorm," she said.

I looked into Crighton's emerald-green eyes, and the thing that I really wanted to know spilled out of my mouth before I could stop it. "What made you think she'd really stopped supporting Zira, Professor?"

Crighton held my gaze for a few seconds, and then said, "That, Kiara, is a matter between Professor Triphorm and myself." (I eventually knew the answer to that question, but I'm afraid you'll know that in my seventh book - and boy, it came as a shock to me, but we'll get there.)

I knew that the interview was over; Crighton did not look angry, yet there was a finality in her tone that told me it was time to go.

"Kiara," she said, as I stood up. "Please do not speak about Nikita's parents to anybody else. She has the right to let people know when she is ready."

"Yes, Professor," I said, turning to go.

"Oh, and Kiara?" I looked back at Crighton as I reached the door. "I'm glad that you have not told anyone (the Ministry in particular) about what you know about Bernard Jenkins. The less people know about this, the better."

"Well, it wasn't for publicity purposes, Professor," I said to her. "I just don't want people to think I'm crazy. Plus, seeing as this is Zira we're talking about, if people found out I would share a connection with her, and think that she was behind Bernard Jenkins' death, not only would it freak a lot of people out, but it would also make matters a whole lot worse."

"Not only do I agree with you, Kiara, but I am still grateful to you for not telling anyone besides the people you trust the most."

I smiled at Crighton and turned to leave, but I was once again interrupted by Crighton.

"And - "

I looked back.

Crighton was standing over the Pensieve, her face lit from beneath by its silvery spots of light, looking older than ever. She stared at me for a moment, and then said, "Good luck with the third task."


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

 **The Third Task**

 **KIARA**

"Ma reckons She-You-Know's getting stronger again?" Chris whispered.

Everything I had seen in the Pensieve, nearly everything Crighton had shown and told me afterwards, I had shared with Chris, Sian and Chrissie - and, of course, with my parents and grandmothers, to whom I had sent an owl to each the moment I had left Crighton's office. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I sat up late once again in the common room that night, talking it all over until my mind was reeling, until I understood what Crighton had meant about a head being too full of thoughts that it would have been a relief to siphon them off.

Chris and Chrissie were staring into the common room fire. I thought I saw them shiver slightly, even though the evening was warm.

"And she trusts Triphorm?" Chrissie said. "She really trusts Triphorm, even though she used to be a Love Destroyer?"

"Yes," I said.

Sian had not spoken for ten minutes. She was sitting with her forehead in her hands, staring at her knees. I thought that she, too, could have done with a Pensieve.

"Peter Meter," she said finally.

"How can you be worrying about him now?" said Chris, in disbelief.

"I'm not worrying about him," Sian said to her knees. "I'm just thinking ... remember what he said to Chris in the Flying Owls? "I know things about Lynn Baxter that will make your hair curl." This is what he meant, isn't it? He reported her trial, he knew she'd passed information to the Love Destroyers. And Blinky, too, remember ... "Miss Baxter is a bad witch." Mrs Clutch would have been furious she got off, she would have talked about it at home."

"Yeah, but Baxter didn't pass information on purpose, did she?"

Sian shrugged.

"And Sweets reckons _Monsieur Legrand_ attacked Clutch?" Chrissie said, turning back to me.

"Yeah," I said, "but she's only saying that because Clutch disappeared near the Beauxbatons carriage."

"We never thought of him, did we?" said Chrissie slowly. "Mind you, he's definitely got giant blood, and he doesn't want to admit it - "

"Of course he doesn't," said Sian sharply, looking up. "Look at what happened to Mina when Peter Meter found out about her father. Look at Sweets, jumping to conclusions about him, just because he's part-giant. Who needs that sort of prejudice? I'd probably say I had big bones if I knew that's what I get for telling the truth."

Sian looked at her watch.

"We haven't done any practicing!" she said, looking shocked. "We were going to do the Impediment Jinx! We'll have to really get down to it tomorrow! Come on, Kiara, you need to get some sleep."

Sian, Chrissie and I went slowly upstairs to our dormitory. As I pulled on my nightgown and got into bed, I thought over all that Crighton had told me about Nikita. True to my word to Crighton, I had not told Chris, Sian and Chrissie about Nikita's parents. I tried to ignore how it must feel to have parents still living, but unable to recognise you. I often got sympathy from strangers about being split from my parents at such a young age, and as I listened to Chrissie's snores, I thought that Nikita deserved it more than I did. Lying in the darkness, I felt a rush of anger and hate towards the people who had tortured Mr and Mrs Bore ... I remembered the jeers of the crowd as Clutch's daughter and her companions had been dragged from the court by the Dementors ... I understood how they felt ... then I remembered the milk-white face of the screaming girl, and I realised with a jolt that she had died a year later ...

I was jerked out of my thoughts by a particularly loud snore from Chrissie, which made me think about Crighton's words about Sian. I wondered what had happened to Sian as a child, and what on Earth Katalina Outsider could have done to her. I remembered the look on Crighton's face, her eyes so full of sadness and regret, which was perfectly portrayed in her words. For the first time since I had known her, I felt sorry for Sian, for whatever Outsider had done, it must have been terrible. I had also kept this secret from Chris, Sian and Chrissie, too, and had continued to do so until some time after the war ended. I should also point out here that I hid my sadness for Sian away from her as best I could, and it worked. The only reason I know this is because when I told Sian about it, she said that she never guessed for a moment that her mother had let anything slip about her to me.

Anyhoo, it was Zira, I thought, as I stared up at the canopy of my bed in the darkness, it all came back to Zira ... she was the one who had torn many families apart, and who had ruined many lives, along with the help of her followers ...

0000

Chris, Sian and Chrissie were supposed to be revising for their exams, which finished on the day of the third task, but they were putting most of their efforts into helping me prepare.

"Don't worry about it," Sian said shortly, when I pointed this out to them, and said I didn't mind practicing on my own for a while. "At least we'll get top marks in Defence Against the Dark Arts, we'd never have found out about all these hexes in class."

"Good training for when we're all Aurors," said Chris excitedly, attempting the Impediment Jinx on a wasp that had buzzed into the room, making it stop dead in mid-air.

The mood in the castle as we entered June became excited and tense again. Everyone was looking forward to the third task, which took place a week before the end of term. I practiced hexes in every available moment. I felt more confident about that task than the other two before it. Difficult and dangerous though it was (and more dangerous than I had indeed imagined at the end of the task), Grumpy was right: I had managed to find my way past monstrous creatures and enchanted barriers before then, and that time I had some notice, some chance to prepare myself for what lay ahead (but I wasn't prepared for _quite_ everything that came my way in the third task, and I doubt I would have been if someone had tried to help me beforehand, either. Don't worry, you'll find out what this means later).

Tired of walking in on us all over the school, Professor Darbus had given me permission to use the empty Transfiguration classroom at lunchtimes. I had soon mastered the Impediment Jinx, a spell to slow down and obstruct attackers, the Reductor curse, which would enable me to blast solid objects out of my way, and the Four-Point Spell, a useful discovery of Sian's which would make my wand point due north, therefore enabling me to check whether I was going in the right direction within the maze. I was still having trouble with the Shield Charm, though. It's purpose is to cast a temporary, invisible wall around the caster that deflects minor curses; Sian managed to shatter it with a well placed Jelly-Legs Jinx. I wobbled around the room for ten minutes afterwards before she had looked up the counter-jinx.

"You're still doing really well, though," Sian said encouragingly, looking down her list, and crossing off those spells we had already learnt. "Some of these are bound to come in handy."

"Come and look at this," said Chrissie, who was standing by the window. She was staring down into the grounds. "What's Malty doing?"

Chris, Sian and I went to see. Malty, Crate, Gabber and Rea-Bradley were standing in the shadow of a tree below. Crate, Gabber and Rea-Bradley were keeping lookout, though the latter looked rather reluctant about it; Crate and Gabber were smirking, whereas Rea-Bradley looked as though she wanted to be somewhere else. Malty was holding her hand up to her mouth, and speaking into it.

"She looks like she's using a walkie-talkie," I said curiously.

"She can't be," said Sian, "I've told you, those sort of things don't work around Dragon Mort. Come on, Kiara," she added briskly, turning away from the window and moving back into the middle of the room, "let's try that Shield Charm again."

0000

My parents were sending me daily owls by this point. Like Sian, they seemed to want to concentrate on getting me through the last task, before we concerned ourselves with anything else. They reminded me in every letter that whatever might be going on outside the walls of Dragon Mort was not my responsibility, nor was it within my power to influence it.

 _If Zira is really getting strong again_ (my father wrote) _, then my priority, and your mother's, is to ensure your safety. Zira cannot hope to lay her hands on you while you are under Crighton's protection, but all the same, take no risks: concentrate on getting through that maze safely, and then we can concentrate on other matters._

And for those of you who are wondering, Grandmother Sarabi said something along those lines, too.

My nerves mounted as June the twenty-fourth drew closer, but they were not as bad as those I had had before the first and second tasks. For one thing, I was confident that, this time, I had done everything in my power to prepare for the task (except to prepare my mind for what was going to happen). For another, this was the final hurdle, and however well or badly I did, the Tournament would at last be over, which was (presumably) an enormous belief (or so I thought).

0000

Breakfast was a very noisy affair on the morning of the third task. The post owls appeared, bringing me a good-luck card from my parents. It was only a piece of parchment, folded over and bearing two muddy paw prints on its front, but I appreciated it all the same. A screech owl arrived for Sian, carrying her morning copy of the _Daily Squabbler_ as usual. She unfolded the paper, glanced at the front page, and spat out a mouthful of pumpkin juice all over it.

"What?" Chris, Chrissie and I said together.

"Nothing," said Sian quickly, trying to shove the paper out of sight, but Chrissie grabbed it.

She gazed at the headline, her expression turning from normal to shock to infuriated in less than ten seconds, before she shoved it into Chris' hands without a word.

Chris stared at the headline and said, "No way. Not today. That old _git_."

"What?" I said. "Peter Meter again?"

"No," said Chris, and just like Sian, he attempted to push the paper out of sight.

"It's about me, isn't it?" I said.

"No," said Chris, in an entirely unconvincing tone.

But before I could demand to see the paper, Dani Malty shouted across the Great Hall from the Snake-Eyes table.

"Hey, Pride-Lander! _Pride-Lander!_ How's your head? You feeling all right? Sure you're not going to go berserk on us?"

Malty was holding a copy of the _Daily Squabbler_ , too. Snake-Eyes up and down the table were sniggering, twisting in their seats to see my reaction.

"Let me see it," I said to Chris. "Give it here."

Very reluctantly, Chris handed over the newspaper. I turned it over, and found myself staring at my own picture, beneath a banner headline:

 _KIARA PRIDE-LANDER "DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS"_

 _The girl who defeated She Who Must Not Be Named is unstable and possibly dangerous,_ writes Peter Meter, Special Correspondent _. Alarming evidence has recently come to light about Kiara Pride-Lander's strange behaviour, which cast doubts upon her suitability to compete in a demanding competition like the Triwizard Tournament, or even to attend Dragon Mort school._

 _Pride-Lander, the_ Daily Squabbler _can exclusively reveal, regularly collapses at school, and is often heard to complain of pain in the scar on her forehead (relic of the curse which She-You-Know attempted to kill her). On Monday last, midway through a divination lesson, your_ Daily Squabbler _reporter witnessed Pride-Lander storming from the class, claiming that her scar was hurting too badly to continue studying._

 _It is possible, say top experts at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, that Pride-Lander's brain was affected by the attack inflicted upon her by She-You-Know, and that her insistence that her scar is still hurting is an expression of her deep-seated confusion._

 _"She might even be pretending," said one specialist, "this could be a plea for attention."_

 _The_ Daily Squabbler _, however, has unearthed worrying facts about Kiara Pride-Lander that Susan Crighton, Headmistress of Dragon Mort, has carefully concealed from the wizarding public._

 _"Pride-Lander can speak Parshydamouth," said Danielle Malty, a Dragon Mort fourth-year. "There were a lot of attacks on students a couple of years ago, and most people thought Pride-Lander was behind them after they saw her lose her temper at a Duelling club and set a snake on another girl. It was all hushed up, though. But she's made friends with werewolves and giants too. We think she'd do anything for a bit of power."_

 _Parshydamouth, the ability to converse with snakes and other reptiles, has long been considered a Dark Art, which was made famous by She-You-Know herself. Parseltongue, the ability to talk to snakes, is a part of the group, for which Lord Voldemort and the Boy Who Lived were famous for, although some say that that power went away when Potter defeated the Dark Lord; yet this reporter wonders whether "a good person can do the Dark Arts" thing is just a one-time only thing, or whether it is just pure coincidence. Anyway, a member of the Dark Force Defence League, who wished to remain unnamed, stated that he would regard any wizard who could speak Parseltongue as well as Parshydamouth "as worthy of Investigation. Personally, I would be highly suspicious of anybody who could converse with snakes, as serpents are often used in the worst kinds of Dark magic, and are historically associated with evil-doers". Similarly, "anyone who seeks out the company of such vicious creatures as werewolves and giants would appear to have a fondness for violence"._

 _Susan Crighton should surely consider whether a girl such as this should be allowed to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. Some fear that Pride-Lander might resort to the Dark Arts in desperation to win the Tournament, the third task of which takes place this evening._

"Gone off me a bit, hasn't he?" I said lightly, folding up the paper.

Over at the Snake-Eyes table, Malty, Crate and Gabber were laughing at me, tapping their heads with their fingers, pulling grotesquely mad faces and waggling their tongues like snakes, whereas Rea-Bradley sat at the end of the table, not laughing at all. It was clear that she was apart from her fellow Snake-Eyes students now, for she was looking at them all disdainfully. She looked lost and alone, like she didn't belong there anymore.

"How did he know your scar hurt in Divination?" Chrissie said. "There's no way he was there, there's no way he could've heard - "

"The window was open," I said. "I opened it to breathe."

"You were at the top of North Tower!" Sian said. "You voice couldn't have carried all the way down to the grounds!"

"Well, you're the one who's supposed to be researching magical methods of bugging!" I said. "You tell me how he did it!"

"I've been trying!" said Sian. "But I ... but ..."

An odd, dreamy expression suddenly came over Sian's face. she slowly raised a hand, and ran her fingers through her hair.

"Are you all right?" said Chris, frowning at her.

"Yes," said Sian breathlessly. She ran her fingers through her hair again, and then held up her hand to her mouth, as though speaking into an invisible walkie-talkie. Chris, Chrissie and I stared at each other.

"I've had an idea," said Sian, gazing into space. "I think I know ... because then no one would be able to see ... even Grumpy ... and he'd have been able to get onto the window-ledge ... but he's not allowed ... he's _definitely_ not allowed ... I think we've got him! Just give me two seconds in the library - just to make sure!"

With that, Sian seized her schoolbag, and dashed out of the Great Hall.

"Oi!" Chrissie called after her. "We've got our History of Magic exam in ten minutes! Blimey," she said, turning back to me, "she must really hate that Meter man to risk missing the start of an exam. "What're you going to do in Yawn's class - read again?"

Exempt from the end-of-term tests as a Triwizard Champion, I had been sitting at the back of every exam class so far, looking up fresh hexes for the third task.

"S'pose so," I said to Chris and Chrissie; but just then Professor Darbus came walking along the Lion-Heart table towards me.

"Pride-Lander, the Champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast," she said.

"But the task's not 'til tonight!" I said, accidentally spilling scrambled eggs down my front, afraid that I had mistaken the time.

"I'm aware of that, Pride-Lander," she said. "The Champions' families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is simply a chance for you to greet them."

She moved away. I gaped after her.

"I know I'm not close with them, but she doesn't expect the Smiths to turn up, does she?" I asked Chris and Chrissie blankly.

"Dunno," said Chris, "but if they're here, they're here. Listen, Kiara, me and Chrissie'd better hurry up, for we're going to be late for Yawn if we're sat around here for much longer. We'll see you later."

I finished my breakfast in the emptying Great Hall. I saw Ferdinand Desjardin get up from the Raven-Wings table and joined Georgia as she crossed to the side chamber and entered. Outsider strode off to join them shortly afterwards, with Kopa walking quickly behind him. I stayed where I was. I didn't really want to go into the chamber. I didn't want the Smiths to be there (and I know that most of you are thinking that I am stupid for not thinking of my grandmothers, but truth be told, I was in a bit of shock, thinking that the time of the task had been changed). I was just getting up, thinking that I might as well go up to the library and do a spot more hex revision, when the door of the side chamber opened, and Georgia stuck her head out.

"Kiara, come on, they're waiting for you!"

Utterly perplexed, I got up, hoping against hope that the Smiths weren't there. I walked across the Hall and opened the door into the chamber.

Georgia and her parents were just inside the door. Kovu Outsider and his brother, Kopa, were over in a corner, conversing with their dark haired mother, father and sister (by the looks and the height of the girl, who reached just below her mother's chest, she looked about fourteen, and she had bright, quick, intelligent blue eyes). Kovu had inherited his father's long nose. On the other side of the room, Ferdinand was jabbering away in French to his father. Ferdinand's little brother, Simon, was holding his mother's hand. He waved at me, and I waved back. Then I saw Grandmother Sarabi and Sam Fang, Tanya and Geri's elder sister, who were standing in front of the fireplace and were both beaming at me.

"Surprise!" Grandmother Sarabi said excitedly, as I smiled broadly, and walked over to them. "Thought we'd come and watch you, sweetheart!" She bent down and kissed me on the cheek.

"You all right?" said Sam, grinning at me and hugging me quickly. "Kat and Uncle Matt wanted to come, but neither of them could take time off. Kat said you were incredible against that Horntail."

Ferdinand Desjardin, I noticed, was eyeing Sam with great interest over his shoulder. I could tell he had no objection whatsoever to her short hair or nose piercings.

"This is really nice of you, Grandmother," I said to Grandmother Sarabi. "You know, for a moment, I thought that the Smiths - "

"Oh, Kiara," Grandmother Sarabi chuckled, "the Smiths can't get in here! No one can!"

"Why not?" I asked, looking confused.

"Why, because of the Muggle-Repelling Charms the surround Dragon Mort, that's why! You see, if a Muggle gets too close to the premises, they remember they have something else to do, and they move away. If this Charm wasn't around the place, I would've brought Sarafina with me. She sends you her love and her luck for tonight, by the way."

"It's great being back here," said Sam, looking around the chamber (Victor, the Fat Lord's friend, winked at her from his frame). "Haven't seen this place for five years. Is that picture of the mad knight still around? Knightress?"

"Oh, yeah," I said. I had met Knightress in my third year.

"And the Fat Lord?" said Sam.

"Yeah, he's still here, too," I said.

"So, fancy giving us a tour, Kiara?" Grandmother Sarabi said. "I'll admit, I haven't been here before. My school training was all done in Africa."

"So, how come I'm - ?"

"Crighton's doing, Kiara," Grandmother Sarabi answered simply. "So, that tour?"

"Yeah, OK," I said, and we made our way back towards the door into the Great Hall.

As we passed Alesha Diggs, she looked around. "There you are, are you?" she said, looking me up and down. "Bet you're not feeling quite as full of yourself now Georgia's caught you up on points, are you?"

"What?" I said.

"Ignore her," said Georgia in a low voice to me, frowning after her mother. "She's been angry ever since Peyer Meter's article about the Triwizard Tournament - you know, when he made out you were the only Dragon Mort Champion."

"Didn't bother to correct him, though, did she?" said Alesha Diggs, loudly enough for me to hear as I made to walk out of the door with Grandmother Sarabi and Sam. "Still ... you'll show her, Georgie. Beaten her once before, haven't you?"

"Peter Meter goes out of his way to cause trouble from what I've heard, Alesha!" Grandmother Sarabi said angrily. "I would have thought you'd know that, working at the Ministry!"

Mrs Diggs looked as though she was going to say something angry, but her husband lay a hand on her arm, and she merely shrugged and turned away.

I had a very enjoyable morning walking over the sunny grounds with Sam and my Grandmother Sarabi that day, showing them the Beauxbatons carriage and the Uagadou sub. Grandmother Sarabi was intrigued by the Bashing Tree, for she had never seen one before.

"How's Perdy?" I asked, as we walked around the greenhouses.

"Not good," said Sam, lowering her voice and looking around. "She's very upset at the moment. You see, Kiara, the Ministry want to keep Mrs Clutch's disappearance quiet, but Perdy's been hauled in for questioning about the instructions Mrs Clutch has been sending in. They seem to think there's a chance they weren't genuinely written by her. Perdy's been under a lot of strain. They're not letting her fill in for Mrs Clutch as the fifth judge tonight. Cornelia Sweets is going to be doing it."

We returned to the castle for lunch.

"Sarabi - Sam!" said Chrissie, looking stunned, as she joined us at the Lion-Heart table. "What're you doing here!"

"Come to watch Kiara in the last task!" said Grandmother Sarabi brightly. "I must say, it makes a lovely change, not having to cook. How was your exam, Chrissie?"

"Oh ... it was OK, I guess," said Chrissie. "Couldn't remember all the faun rebel's names, so I invented a few. It's all right," she said, helping herself to a Cornish pasty, while Grandmother Sarabi looked stern, "they're all called stuff like Bogrod the Beautiful and Ulruk the Unclear, it wasn't hard."

"Well, at least _some_ of us actually studied hard, Chrissie, and didn't have to make anything up at all," Sian said suddenly, as she came over to join us. Chrissie said nothing, but kept on taking angry bites out of her pasty, and all the other things she ate, until lunch was over.

Anyhoo, when Sian turned up, I remembered that she had had a brainwave about Peter Meter.

"Are you going to tell us - ?"

Sian shook her head warningly, and glanced at Grandmother Sarabi. I took the hint and dropped it for later.

"Hello, Sian," Grandmother Sarabi said brightly to her. "I'm glad to see that one of you at least is taking your exams seriously."

"Thank you, Sarabi. I am, too," Sian said, as Chrissie took her anger out on another pasty. It was then that I saw Grandmother Sarabi's eyes narrow at the doorway. I looked over to where she was looking, and I saw Chris, who was carefully avoiding her eyes.

I immediately caught on to what was going on, so I said, "Grandmother Sarabi, you don't believe what rubbish Peter Meter has written in _Wizard Weekly_ , do you? Because Chris isn't my boyfriend."

"And I'm not going out with him either, just so you know," said Sian, shrugging. Grandmother Sarabi, Sam, Chris and I looked at Sian strangely - even Chrissie looked at Sian strangely. At our looks, Sian said, "I just wanted to point it out there."

After the shock of Sian's words had worn off, Grandmother Sarabi looked surprised by what she had heard, but she became considerably warmer towards Chris after that.

Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Ben, Dave, and Tanya and Geri came to sit next to us, too, and I was having such a good time that I felt almost as though I was back at Dawson Manor again (I know Grandmother Sarabi wasn't there, but still); I had forgotten about that evening's task, and I was grateful that Grandmother Sarabi was there.

After lunch, Grandmother Sarabi, Sam and I whiled away the afternoon with a long walk around the castle, and then returned to the Great Hall for the evening feast. Lynn Baxter and Cornelia Sweets had joined the staff table. Baxter looked quite cheerful, but Cornelia Sweets, who was sat next to Monsieur Legrand, looked stern and was not talking. Monsieur Legrand was concentrating on his plate, and I thought his eyes looked red. Mina kept glancing along the table at him.

There were more courses than usual that night, but as I was feeling very nervous, I didn't eat much. As the enchanted ceiling overhead began to fade from blue to a dusky purple, Crighton rose to her feet at the staff table, and silence fell.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch pitch for the final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the Champions please follow Miss Baxter down to the stadium now."

I got up. The Lion-Hearts all along the table were applauding me; the Dawsons, Kat, Tanya, Geri and Grandmother Sarabi all wished me good luck, and I headed off out of the Great Hall, with Georgia, Ferdinand and Outsider.

"Feeling all right, Kiara?" Baxter asked, as we went down the stone steps into the grounds. "Confident?"

"I'm OK," I said. "It was sort of true; I was nervous, but I kept running over all the hexes abd spells I had been practicing in my mind as we walked, and the knowledge that I could remember them all made me feel better.

We walked out onto the Quidditch pitch, which was now completely unrecognisable. A twenty-foot-high hedge ran all the way around the edge of it. There was a gap right in front of us; the entrance to the vast maze. The passage beyond it looked dark and creepy.

Five minutes later, the stands had begun to fill; the air was full of excited voices and the rumbling of feet as the hundreds of students filed into their seats. The sky was a deep, clear blue now, and the first stars were starting to appear. Mina, Professor Grumpy, Professor Darbus and Professor Winds came walking into the stadium and approached Baxter and we Champions. They were wearing large, red, luminous stars on their hats, all except Mina, who had hers on the back of her blouse.

"We are going to be patrolling the outside of the maze," said Professor Darbus to we Champions. "If you get into difficulty, and wished to be rescued, send red sparks into the air, and one of us will come and get you, do you understand?"

We Champions nodded.

"Off you go, then!" said Baxter brightly to the four patrollers.

"Good luck, Kiara," Mina whispered, and the four of them walked away in different directions, to station themselves around the maze. Baxter now pointed her wand at her throat, muttered _"Sonorus"_ , and her magically magnified voice echoed into the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you of how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, on eighty-five points each - Miss Georgia Diggs and Miss Kiara Pride-Lander, both of Dragon Mort school!" The cheers and applause sent birds from the Black Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. "In second place, on eighty points - Mr Kovu Outsider, of Uagadou School of Magic!" More applause. "And in third place - Mr Ferdinand Desjardin, of Beauxbatons Academy!"

I could just make out Grandmother Sarabi, Sam, Chris, Sian and Chrissie applauding Ferdinand politely, halfway up in the stands. I waved up at them, and they waved back, beaming at me.

"So ... on my whistle, Kiara and Georgia!" said Baxter. "Three - two - one - "

She gave a short blast on her whistle, and Georgia and I hurried forwards into the maze.

The towering hedges cast black shadows across the path, and, whether because they were so tall and thick, or because they had been enchanted, the sound of the surrounding crowd was silenced the moment we entered the maze. I felt almost as though I was underwater again. I pulled out my wand, muttered _"Lumos"_ , and I heard Georgia do the same just behind me.

After about fifty yards, we reached a fork. We looked at each other.

"See you," I said, and I took the left one, while Georgia took the right.

I heard Baxter's whistle for the second time. Outsider had entered the maze. I sped up. My chosen path seemed completely deserted. I turned right, and hurried on, holding my wand high over my head, trying to see as far ahead as possible. Still there was nothing in sight.

I kept looking behind me. The old feeling that I was being watched was upon me. The maze was growing darker with every passing minute as the sky overhead deepened to navy. I reached a second fork.

 _"Point me,"_ I whispered to my wand, holding it flat in my palm.

The wand spun around once, and pointed towards my right, into solid hedge. That way was north, and I knew that I needed to go north-west for the centre of the maze. The best I could do was to take the left fork, and go right again as soon as possible.

The path ahead was empty, too, and when I reached a right turn I took it, I again found my way unblocked. I didn't know why, but I found the lack of obstacles rather unnerving. I mean, surely I must have met something by this point, shouldn't I? I felt as though the maze was leading me into a false sense of security. Then I heard movement right behind me. I held out my wand, ready to attack, but its beam only fell upon Georgia, who had just hurried out of a path on the right-hand side. Georgia looked severely shaken. The sleeve of her robes was smoking.

"Mina's Shudder-Ended Crabs!" she hissed. "They're enormous - I only just got away!"

She shook her head, and dived out of sight, along another path. Keen to put plenty of distance between myself and the Crabs, I hurried off again. Then, as I turned a corner, I saw -

A Stinger was gliding towards me. Twelve feet tall, its face hidden by its hood, except for one large, blood-red eye, glinting menacingly in the twilight, as its rotting, scabbed hands were outstretched, as it advanced, its eye fixed directly on me. I could hear its rattling breath, which, combined with its droning, deadly sounding buzzing, made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up; I felt clammy coldness stealing over me, but I knew what I had to do ...

I summoned the happiest thought I could, concentrated with all my might on Chris, Sian, Chrissie and Grandmother Sarabi, raised my wand and cried, _"Expecto Patronum!"_

A silver lioness erupted from the end of my wand and ran towards the Stinger, which fell back, and tripped over the hem of its robes ... I had never seen a Stinger stumble before or since that night.

"Hang on!" I shouted, advancing in the wake of my silver Patronus. "You're a Boggart! _Riddikulus!_ "

There was a loud crack, and the shape-shifter exploded in a wisp of smoke. The silver lioness faded from sight. I wished it could have stayed, I could have used some company ... but I moved on as quickly and quietly as possible, listening hard, my wand held high once more.

Left ... right ... left again ... twice I found myself facing dead ends. I did the Four-Point Spell again, and found that I was going too far east. I turned back, took a right turn, and saw an odd golden mist floating ahead of me. I wondered whether I might be able to blast it out of the way.

 _"Reducto!"_ I said.

The spell shot straight through the mist, leaving it intact. I supposed I should have known better; the Reductor curse was for solid objects. I wondered what would happen if I walked right through the mist, whilst also wondering if it was worth chancing, or whether I should double back.

I was still hesitating, when a scream shattered the silence.

"Ferdinand?" I yelled.

There was silence. I stared all around me. I wondered what had happened to him. His scream seemed to have come from somewhere ahead. I took a deep breath, and ran through the enchanted mist.

The world turned upside-down. I was hanging from the ground, with my hair on end, as I hung there, terrified. It felt as though my feet were glued to the grass, which had now become the ceiling. Below me the dark, star-spangled heavens stretched endlessly. I felt as though if I tried to move one of my feet, that I would fall away from the earth completely.

 _Think_ , I told myself, as all the blood rushed to my head, _think_ ...

But not one of the spells I had practiced had been designed to combat a sudden reversal of ground and sky. I wondered whether I should move my foot or not. I could hear the blood pounding in my ears. I had two choices - try and move, or else send up red sparks, and get rescued and disqualified from the task.

I shut my eyes, so I wouldn't be able to see the view of endless space below me, and pulled my right foot as hard as I could, away from the grassy ceiling.

Immediately, the world righted itself. I fell forwards onto my knees on the wonderfully solid ground. I felt temporarily limp with shock. I took a deep, steadying breath, then got up again, and hurried forwards, looking back over my shoulder as I ran out of the golden mist, which twinkled innocently at me in the moonlight.

I paused at a junction of two paths and looked around for some sign of Ferdinand. I was sure it had been he who had screamed. What had he met? Was he all right? There was no sign of red sparks - did that mean he had got himself out of trouble, or was he in such trouble that he couldn't reach his wand, I wondered. I took the right fork with a feeling of increasing unease ... but at the same time, I couldn't help thinking, _one Champion down_ ...

The Cup was somewhere close by, and it sounded as though Ferdinand was no longer in the running. I'd gotten this far, hadn't I? And then it hit me: what if I actually managed to win? Fleetingly, and for the first time since I'd found myself Champion, I saw again that image of myself, raising the Triwizard Cup in front of the rest of the school ...

I met nothing for ten minutes, except dead ends. Twice I took the same wrong turning. Finally I found a new route, and started to jog along it, my wand-light waving, making my shadow flicker and distort on the hedge walls. Then I rounded another corner, and found myself facing a Shudder-Ended Crab.

Georgia was right - it _was_ enormous. Ten feet long, it looked more like a giant scorpion than a crab. It's muscle of a tail was banging hard on the ground now, making everything around it quake, and with each bang it made, a jet of fire shot out of the end. Its thick armour glinted in the light from my wand, which I pointed at it.

 _"Stupefy!"_

The spell hit the Crab's armour, and rebounded; I ducked just in time, but I could smell burning hair; it had singed the ends of my hair. The Crab ran towards me, its muscle raised, and shot a jet of fire at me.

 _"Impedimenta!"_ I yelled. The spell hit the Crab's armour again and ricocheted off; I staggered back a few paces and fell over. "IMPEDIMENTA!"

The Crab was inches from me when it froze - I had managed to hit it on its fleshy, shell-less underside. Panting, I pushed myself away from it and ran, hard, in the opposite direction - the Impediment Jinx was not permanent, the Crab would be regaining the use of its legs at any moment.

I took a left path, and hit a dead end, a right, and hit another: forcing myself to stop, with my heart hammering, I performed the Four-Point Spell again, backtracked, and chose a path that took me north-west.

I had been hurrying along the new path for a few minutes, when I heard something in the path running parallel to my own, which made me stop dead.

"What the hell are you doing?" yelled Georgia's voice. "What the hell d'you think you're doing?"

And then I heard Outsider's voice.

 _"Crucio!"_

The air was suddenly full of Georgia's screams. Horrified, I began sprinting up my path, trying to find a way into Georgia's. When none appeared, I tried the Reductor curse again. It wasn't very effective, but it burnt a small hole in the hedge, through which I forced my leg, kicking at the thick brambles and branches until they broke and made an opening; I struggled through it, tearing my robes and, looking to my right, I saw Georgia jerking and twitching on the ground, Outsider standing over her.

I pulled myself up and pointed my wand at Outsider just as Outsider looked up. Outsider turned and began to run.

 _"Stupefy!"_ I yelled.

The spell hit Outsider in the back; he stopped dead in his tracks, fell forwards and lay motionless, face down in the grass. I dashed over to Georgia, who had stopped twitching, and was lying there panting, her hands over her face.

"Are you all right?" I said roughly, grabbing Georgia's arm.

"Yeah," panted Georgia. "Yeah ... I don't believe it ... he crept up behind me ... I heard him, turned round, and he had his wand on me ..."

Georgia got up. She was still shaking. She and I both looked down at Outsider.

"I can't believe this ... I thought he was all right," I said, staring at Outsider.

"So did I," said Georgia.

"Did you hear Ferdinand scream earlier?" I said.

"Yeah," said Georgia. "You don't think Outsider got him, too, do you?"

"I don't know," I said slowly.

"Should we leave him here?" Georgia muttered.

"No," I said. "I reckon we should send up red sparks. Someone'll come and collect him ... otherwise he'll probably be eaten by a Crab."

"He'd deserve it," Georgia muttered, but all the same, she raised her wand and shot a shower of red sparks into the air, which hovered high above Outsider, marking the spot where he lay.

Georgia and I stood there in the darkness for a moment, looking around us. Then Georgia said, "Well ... I s'pose we'd better go on ..."

"What?" I said. "Oh ... yeah ... right ..."

It was an odd moment for us; Georgia and I had been briefly united against Outsider - and now the fact that we were opponents came back to us both. We proceeded up the dark path without speaking, then I turned left, and Georgia right. Georgia's footsteps soon died away.

I moved on, continuing to use the Four-Point Spell, to ensure that I was still moving in the right direction. It was between Georgia and I now. My desire to reach the Cup first was now burning stronger than ever, but I could hardly believe what I had seen Outsider do. The use of an Unforgivable Curse on a fellow human being meant a life term in Azkaban, that was what Grumpy had told us. Outsider surely couldn't have wanted the Triwizard Cup that badly ... I sped up.

Every so often, I hit more dead ends, but the increasing darkness made me feel sure I was getting near the heart of the maze. Then, as I strode down a long, straight path, I saw movement once again, and my beam of wand-light hit an extraordinary creature, one which I had only seen in picture form, in my _Monster Book of Monsters_.

It was a sphinx. It had the head body of an overlarge lion; great clawed paws, and a long yellowish tail ending in a brown tuft. Its head, however, was that of a woman. She turned her long, almond-shaped eyes upon me as I approached. I raised my wand, hesitating. She was not crouched as if to spring, but pacing from side to side of the path, blocking my progress.

Then she spoke, in a deep, hoarse voice. "You are very near your goal. The quickest way is past me."

"So ... so will you move, please?" I said, knowing what the answer was going to be.

"No," she said, continuing to pace. "Not unless you can answer my riddle. Answer on your first guess - I let you pass. Answer wrongly - I attack. Remain silent - I will let you walk away from me, unscathed."

My stomach slipped several notches. It's Sian who is great at this sort of thing, after all, not me. I then weighed my chances. If this riddle was too hard, I could keep silent, get away from her unarmed, and try and find an alternative route to the centre.

"OK," I said. "Can I hear the riddle?"

The sphinx sat down upon her hind legs, in the very centre of the path, and recited:

 _"First, think of the person who lives in disguise,_

 _Who deals in secrets and tells naught but lies._

 _Next, tell me what always the last thing to mend,_

 _The middle of middle and end of the end?_

 _And finally, give me the sound often heard_

 _During the search for a hard-to-find word._

 _Now string them together and answer me this,_

 _Which creature would you be unwilling to kiss?"_

I gaped at her.

"Could I have it again ... more slowly?" I asked tentatively.

She blinked at me, smiled, and repeated the poem.

"All the clues add up to a creature I wouldn't want to kiss?" I asked.

She merely smiled her mysterious smile. I took that for a "yes". I cast my mind around. There were plenty of animals I wouldn't want to kiss; my immediate thought was a Shudder-Ended Crab, but something told me that wasn't the answer. I'd have to try and work out the clues ...

"A person in disguise," I muttered, staring at her, "who lies ... er ... that'd be a - an imposter! No, that's not my guess! A - a spy? I'll come back to that ... could you give me the next clue again, please?"

She repeated the next lines of the poem.

"The last thing to mend," I repeated. "Er ... no idea ... middle of middle ... could I have the last bit again?"

She gave me the last four lines.

"A sound often heard in the search for a hard-to-find word," I said. "Er ... that'd be ... er ... hang on - "er"! "Er"'s a sound!"

The sphinx smiled at me.

"Spy ... er ... spy ... er ..." I paced up and down myself. "A creature I wouldn't want to kiss ... _a spider!_ "

The sphinx smiled more broadly. She got up, stretched her four legs, and moved aside for me to pass.

"Thanks!" I said, and, amazed at my own brilliance, I dashed forwards.

I had to be close now, I just had to be ... my wand was telling me I was bang on course; as long as I didn't meet anything too horrible. I might be in with a chance (foolish thinking, really, looking back now) ...

I had a choice of paths up ahead. "Point me!" I whispered again to my wand, and it spun around and pointed me to the right-hand one. I dashed up that one, and saw a light ahead.

The Triwizard Cup was gleaming on a plinth a hundred yards away. I had just broken into a run, when a dark figure hurtled out onto the path in front of me.

Georgia was going to get there first. Georgia was sprinting as fast as she could towards the Cup, and I knew that I would never have caught up, even though I was tall, Georgia was a few years my senior, and therefore had longer legs -

Then I saw something immense over a hedge to my left, moving quickly along a path that intersected with her own; it was moving so fast Georgia was about to run into it, and Georgia, her eyes on the Cup, had not seen it -

"Georgia!" I bellowed. "On your left!"

Georgia looked around just in time to hurl herself past the thing and avoid colliding with it but, in her haste, she tripped. I saw Georgia's wand fly out of her hand, as a gigantic spider stepped into the path, and began to bear down upon Georgia.

 _"Syupefy!"_ I yelled again; the spell hit the spider's gigantic, hairy black body but, for all the good it did, I might as well have thrown a stone at it; the spider jerked, scuttled around, and ran at me instead.

 _"Stupefy! Impedimenta! Stupefy!"_

But it was no use - the spider was either so large, or so magical, that the spells were doing no more than aggravating it - I had one horrifying glimpse of eight shining black eyes, and razor-sharp pincers, before it was upon me.

I was lifted into the air in its front legs; struggling madly, I tried to kick it; my leg connected with the pincers and next moment I was in excruciating pain - I could hear Georgia yelling _"Stupefy!"_ too, but her spell had no more effect than mine - I raised my wand as the spider opened its pincers once more, and shouted, _"Expelliarmus!"_

It worked - the Disarming spell made the spider drop me, but that meant that I fell twelve feet onto my already injured leg, which crumpled beneath me. Without pausing to think, I aimed at the spider's underbelly, as I had done with the Crab, and shouted _"Stupefy!"_ just as Georgia yelled the same thing.

The two spells combined did what one alone had not - the spider keeled over sideways, flattening a nearby hedge, and strewing the path with a tangle of hairy legs.

"Kiara!" I heard Georgia shouting. "You all right? Did it fall on you?"

"No," I called back, panting. I looked down at my leg. It was bleeding badly. I could see some sort of thick, gluey secretion from the spider's pincers on my torn robes. I tried to get up, but my leg was shaking badly and did not want to support my weight. I leant against the hedge, gasping for breath, and looked around.

Georgia was standing feet from the Triwizard Cup, which was gleaming behind her.

"Take it, then," I panted to Georgia. "Go on, take it. You're there."

But Georgia didn't move. She merely stood there, looking at me. Then she turned to stare at the Cup. I saw the longing expression on her face in its golden light. Georgia looked around at me again, as I held onto the hedge to support myself.

Georgia took a deep breath. "You take it. You should win. That's twice you've saved my neck in here."

"That's not how it's supposed to work," I said. I felt angry; my leg was very painful, I was aching all over from trying to throw off the spider, and after all my efforts, Georgia had beaten me to it, just as she had been Khan's first choice to the ball. "The one who reaches the Cup first gets the points. That's you. I'm telling you, I'm not going to win any races on this leg."

Georgia took a few paces nearer to the Stunned spider, away from the Cup, shaking her head.

"No," she said.

"Stop being noble," I said irritably. "Just take it, then we can get out of here."

Georgia watched me steadying myself, holding tight to the hedge.

"You told me about the dragons," Georgia said. "I would've gone down in the first task if you hadn't told me what was coming."

"I had help on that, too," I snapped, trying to mop up my bloody leg with my robes. "You helped me with the egg - we're square."

"I had help on the egg in the first place," said Georgia.

"We're still square," I said, testing my leg gingerly; it shook violently as I put weight on it; I had sprained my ankle when the spider had dropped me.

"You should've got more points on the second task," said Georgia mulishly. "You stayed behind to try and get all the hostages. I should've done that."

"I was the only one who was thick enough to take that song seriously!" I said bitterly. "Just take the Cup!"

"No," said Georgia.

She stepped over the spider's tangled legs to join me. I just stared at her. Georgia was serious. She was walking away from the sort of glory Badger-Stripes house hadn't had in centuries.

"Go on," Georgia said. She looked as though this was costing her every ounce of resolution she had, but her face was set, her arms were folded, she seemed decided.

I looked from Georgia to the Cup. For one shining moment, I saw myself emerging from the maze, holding it. I saw myself holding the Triwizard Cup aloft, heard the roar of the crowd, saw Khan's face shining with admiration, more clearly than I had ever seen it before that moment ... and then the picture faded, and I found myself staring at Georgia's shadowy, stubborn face.

"Both of us," I said.

"What?"

"We'll take it at the same time. It's still a Dragon Mort victory. We'll tie for it."

Georgia stared at me. She unfolded her arms. "You - you sure?"

"Yeah," I said. "Yeah ... we've helped each other out, haven't we? We both got here. Let's just take it together."

For a moment, Georgia looked as though she couldn't believe her ears; then her face split in a grin.

"You're on," she said. "Come here."

She grabbed my arm below the shoulder, and helped me limp towards the plinth where the Cup stood. When we reached it, we both held out a hand over one of the Cup's gleaming handles.

"On three, right?" I said. "One - two - three - "

Georgia and I both grasped a handle.

Instantly, I felt a jerk somewhere behind my navel. My feet had left the ground. I could not unclench the hand holding the Triwizard Cup; it was pulling me onwards, in a howl of wind and swirling colour, with Georgia at my side. Little did I know at that moment, that when my feet hit the ground a few seconds later, that my life would change for ever, and things would slowly be going downhill from that point on, or, as Sian would later say, "things are going to go from bad, to worse, to horribly wrong, before they start to get better again" ...


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

 **Flesh, Blood and Bone**

 **KIARA**

I felt my feet slam into the ground; my injured leg gave way and I fell forwards; my hand let go of the Triwizard Cup at last. I raised my head.

"Where are we?" I said.

Georgia shook her head. She got up and pulled me to my feet, and we looked around.

We had left the Dragon Mort grounds completely; we had obviously travelled miles - perhaps hundreds of miles - even left the country - for even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone, and the air, instead of being warm, had turned slightly cold. We were standing instead in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to our right. A hill rose above us to our left. I could just make out the outline of a fine old house on the hillside.

Georgia looked down at the Triwizard Cup and then up at me.

"Did anyone tell _you_ the Cup was a Portkey?" she asked.

"Nope," I said. I was looking around the graveyard. It was completely silent, and slightly eerie. "Is this supposed to be part of the task?"

"I dunno," said Georgia. She sounded slightly nervous. "Wands out, d'you reckon?"

"Yeah," I said, glad that Georgia had made the suggestion rather than me.

We pulled out our wands. I kept looking around me. I had, yet again, the strange feeling that we were being watched.

"Someone's coming," I said suddenly.

Squinting tensely through the darkness, we watched the figures drawing nearer, walking steadily towards us between the graves. I couldn't make out their faces; but from the way one of them was walking, and holding its arms, I could tell that the figure was carrying something. Whoever the people were, they were both short, and wore hooded cloaks pulled over their heads to obscure their faces. And - several paces nearer, the space between us closing all the time - I saw that the thing in one of the figure's arms looked like a baby ... or was it merely a bundle of robes?

I lowered my wand slightly, and glanced sideways at Georgia. Georgia shot me a quizzical look. We both turned back to watch the approaching figures.

The stopped beside a towering marble headstone, only six feet from us. For a second, Georgia and I and the two figures simply looked at each other.

And then, without warning, my scar exploded with pain. It was agony such as I had never felt before that point; my wand slipped from my fingers as I put my hands over my face; my knees buckled; I was on the ground and I could see nothing at all; I felt as though my head was about to split open, such was the force of the pain.

From far away, above my head, I heard a high, cold voice say, _"Kill the spare."_

A swishing noise and a second voice, which screeched the words to the night: _"Avada Kedavra!"_

A blast of green light blazed through my eyelids, and I heard something heavy fall to the ground beside me; the pain in my scar reached such a pitch that I retched, and then it diminished; terrified of what I was about to see, I opened my stinging eyes.

Georgia was lying spread-eagled on the ground beside me. She was dead.

For a second that contained an eternity, I stared into Georgia's face, at her open grey eyes, blank and expressionless as the windows of a deserted house, at her half-open mouth, which looked slightly surprised. And then, before my mind had accepted what I was seeing, before I could feel anything but numb disbelief, I felt myself being pulled to my feet by two pairs of hands.

The short man in one of the cloaks put down his bundle, as the woman who held me lit her wand, and dragged me towards the marble headstone. I saw the name upon it flickering in the wand-light before I was forced around and slammed against it.

 _DIZRA MALIAY_

The cloaked man had joined the woman, who was conjuring tight cords around me, tying me from neck to ankles to the headstone. I heard calm breathing from the woman who tied me and shallow, fast breathing from the depths of the man's hood; I struggled, and the woman hit me - hit me with a hand that had a finger missing. And then I realised who it was who were under the cloaks. It was the Absters.

"You!" I gasped.

But the Absters did not reply; Wormy's wife had finished tying me, and Wormy was busy checking the tightness of the cords, his fingers trembling uncontrollably, fumbling over the knots. I heard his wife's foot tapping impatiently. Once sure that I was bound so tightly to the headstone that I couldn't move an inch, Wormy got a length of some black material from his wife and stuffed it roughly into my mouth; then, without a word, they turned from me and hurried away. I couldn't make a sound, nor could I see where the Absters had gone; I couldn't turn my head to see beyond the headstone; I could see only what was right in front of me.

Georgia's body lay some twenty feet away. Some way beyond her, glinting in the starlight, lay the Triwizard Cup. My wand was on the ground at my feet. The bundle of robes that I had thought was a baby was close by, at the foot of the grave. I watched it, and my scar seared with pain again ... and I suddenly knew that I didn't want to see what was in those robes ... I didn't want that bundle opened ...

I heard noises at my feet. I looked down and saw a gigantic snake slithering through the grass, circling the headstone where I was tied. Wormy's fast, wheezy breathing, accompanied by moans and groans from his wife, were growing louder again. It sounded as though they were forcing something heavy across the ground. Then they came within my field of vision, and I saw them pushing a large cauldron to the foot of the grave. It was full of what seemed to be water - I could hear it slopping around - and it was larger than any cauldron I have ever used; a great stone belly large enough for a full-grown man to sit in.

The thing inside the bundle of robes was stirring more persistently, as though it was trying to free itself. Now Wormy's wife was busying herself at the bottom of the cauldron with a wand. Suddenly there were crackling flames beneath it. The large snake slithered away into the darkness.

The liquid in the cauldron heated very fast. The surface began not only to bubble, but also to send out fiery sparks, as though it was on fire. Steam was thickening, blurring the outline of Wormy's wife tending the fire. The movements beneath the cloak became more agitated. And I heard the high, cold voice again.

 _"Hurry!"_

The whole surface of the water was alight with sparks now. It might have been encrusted with diamonds.

"It is ready, mistress."

"Now ..." said the cold voice.

Wormy, who was closest to the robes on the ground, pulled them open, revealing what was inside them, and I let out a scream that was strangled in the wad of material that was blocking my mouth.

It was as though Wormy had flipped over a stone, and revealed something ugly, slimy and blind - but worse, a hundred times worse. The thing Wormy had been carrying had the shape of a crouched human child, except that I had never seen anything less like a child. It was hairless apart from a few tufts of death-white hair on its head, and it was scaly-looking, a dark, raw, reddish black. Its arms and legs were thin and feeble, and its face - no child alive ever had a face like that - was flat and snake-like, with gleaming red eyes. Seriously, the phrase "a face that only a mother could love" really is an understatement here!

The thing seemed almost helpless; it raised its thin arms as Wormy passed it to his wife, and the thing put its arms around her neck. After he had let it go, Wormy's head fell back, and I saw the look of revulsion on his weak, pale face in the firelight, as his wife carried the creature to the rim of the cauldron. For one moment, I saw the evil, flat face illuminate in the sparks dancing on the surface of the potion. And then Womry's wife lowered the creature into the cauldron; there was a hiss, and it vanished below the surface; I heard its frail body hit the bottom with a soft thud.

Let it drown, I thought, my scar burning almost past endurance, please ... let it drown ...

Wormy's wife was dancing around the cauldron, chanting words in a language I did not understand, words that were loud enough to be heard over the spitting of the fire and the spitting of the sparks. As she did this, Wormy spoke. His voice shook, and he seemed frightened beyond his wits. He had his own wand, which he raised, closed his eyes, and spoke to the night. _"Bone of the mother, unknowingly given, you will renew your daughter!"_

The surface of the grave at my feet cracked. Horrified, I watched as a fine trickle of dust rose into the air at Wormy's command, and fell softly into the cauldron. The diamond surface of the water broke and hissed; it sent sparks in all directions, and turned a vivid, poisonous-looking blue.

Wormy was whimpering at this point. He pulled a long, thin, shining silver dagger from inside his robes. His voice broke into petrified sobs. _"Flesh - of the servant - w-willingly given - you will - revive - your mistress!"_

He stretched his right hand out in front of him - the hand with the missing finger. He gripped the dagger very tightly in his left hand, and swung it upwards.

I realised what Wormy was about to do a second before it happened - I closed my eyes as tightly as I could, but I could not block the scream that pierced the night, that went through me as though I had been stabbed with the dagger too. I heard something fall to the ground, heard Wormy's anguished panting, then a sickening splash, as something was dropped into the cauldron. I couldn't bear to look ... but the potion had turned a burning red, the light of which shone through my closed eyelids ...

Wormy was gasping and moaning with agony, as his wife continued to dance and chant faster around the cauldron. Not until I felt Wormy's anguished breath on my face did I realise that Wormy was right in front of me.

 _"B-blood of the enemy ... forcibly taken ... you will ... resurrect your foe."_

I could do nothing to prevent it, I was tied too tightly ... squinting down, struggling helplessly at the robes that had me bound, I saw the shining silver dagger shaking in Wormy's remaining hand. I felt its point penetrate the crook of my right arm, and saw the blood seeping down the sleeve of my torn robes. Wormy, still panting in pain, fumbled in his pocket for a glass phial and held it to my cut, so that a dribble of blood fell into it.

He staggered back to the cauldron with my blood. He poured it inside. The liquid within turned, instantly, a blinding white. Wormy, his job done, dropped to his knees beside the cauldron, then slumped sideways and lay on the ground, cradling the bleeding stump of his arm, gasping and sobbing, as his wife continued to dance and chant at an incredibly fast pace.

The cauldron was simmering, sending its diamond sparks in all directions, so blindingly bright that it turned all else to velvety blackness. Nothing happened ...

Let it have drowned, I thought desperately, let it have gone wrong ...

And then, as Wormy's wife stopped dancing and chanting, and knelt before the cauldron, with her arms spread out on the ground before her in a clear sign of worship, the sparks emanating from inside the cauldron were suddenly extinguished. A surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron instead, obliterating everything in front of me, so that I couldn't see Wormy, his wofe or Georgia or anything but vapour hanging in the air ... it's gone wrong, I thought ... it's drowned ... please ... please let it be dead ...

But then, through the mist in front of me, I saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a woman, tall and skeletally thin, with thin locks of death-white hair that was uneven in places, and came to just above her shoulders, rising slowly from the cauldron.

"Robe me," said the high, cold voice from behind the steam, and Wormy's wife got up from her kneeling position, strode over quickly to where her husband's snivelling form lay and cast him a disgusted look before she picked up the red robes from the ground, stood up straight again, reached up, and pulled them over her mistress' head.

The thin woman then stepped out of the cauldron, staring at me ... and I stared back into the face that had haunted my nightmares for my first three years at Dragon Mort. Whiter than a skull with wide, livid scarlet eyes, and a nose as flat as a snake's, with slits for nostrils, and uneven, limp hair, whiter than death, that came to just around her shoulders ...

Lady Zira had risen again.

 **AN: I know this has nothing to do with the story, but RIP to Charmian Carr, who played Liesl in _The Sound of Music_ earlier this week. **


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

 **The Love Destroyers**

 **KIARA**

Zira looked away from me, and began examining her own body. Her hands were like large, pale spiders; her long white fingers caressed her own chest, her arms, her face; the red eyes, whose pupils were slits, like a cat's, gleamed still more brightly through the darkness. She held up her hands, and flexed the fingers, her expression rapt and exultant. She took not the slightest notice of Wormy, who lay twitching and bleeding on the ground, nor Wormy's wife, who was standing next to her husband and was gazing at Zira with admiration and attentiveness; and nor did Zira pay any attention to the great snake, which had slithered back into sight, and was circling me again, hissing. Zira slipped one of those unnaturally long-fingered hands into a deep pocket, and drew out a wand. She caressed it gently, too; and then she raised it, and pointed it at Wormy, who was lifted off the ground, and thrown against the headstone where I was tied; he fell to the foot of it and lay there, crumpled up and crying. I thought I saw Wormy's wife look at him with a hint of concern in her eyes, but I couldn't be sure. I was then brought back to reality by Zira, who turned her scarlet eyes upon me, laughing a high, cold, mirthless laugh.

Wormy's robes shone with blood; he had wrapped the stump of his arms in them. "My Lady ..." he choked, "my Lady ... you promised ... you did promise ..."

"Hold out your arm," said Zira lazily.

"Oh, mistress ... thank you, mistress ..."

He extended his bleeding stump, but Zira laughed again, as Wormy's wife tutted. "The other arm, Wormy."

"Mistress, please ... _please_ ..."

Zira bent down, and pulled out Wormy's left arm; she forced the sleeve of Wormy's robes up past his elbow, and I saw something upon the skin there, something like a vivid red tattoo - a long red s, shaped like a snake, with a bunch of miniature S's coming off it - the same image that had appeared in the sky at the Quidditch Friendly: the Death Trail. Zira examined it carefully, ignoring Wormy's uncontrollable weeping.

"It is back," she said softly, "they will have noticed it ... and now, we shall see ... now we shall know ..."

She pressed her long, white forefinger to the brand on Wormy's arm.

The scar on my forehead seared with a sharp pain again, and Wormy let out a fresh howl: Zira removed her finger from Wormy's Trail, and I saw that it had turned jet-black.

A look of cruel satisfaction on her face, Zira straightened up, threw back her head, and stared around at the dark graveyard.

"How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?" she whispered, her gleaming red eyes fixed upon the stars. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"

She began to pace up and down before Wormy, Wormy's wife and I, her eyes sweeping the graveyard all the while. After a minute or so, she looked down at me again, a cruel smile twisting her snake-like face.

"You stand, Kiara Pride-Lander, upon the remains of my late mother," she hissed softly. "A Muggle and a fool ... very like your dear mother - as well as your father, despite him being a pure blood. But they had their uses, did they not? Your father placed a protection in you when you were born ... and I killed my mother, and see how useful she has proven herself, in death ..."

Zira laughed again. Up and down she paced, looking all around me as she walked, and the snake continued to circle in the grass.

"You see that house upon the hillside, Pride-Lander? My mother lived there. My father, a wizard who lived here in this village, fell in love with her. But she abandoned him when he told her what he was, but only until after I was born ... she didn't like magic, my mother ...

"She had me and then left me with my father, and returned to my parents without so much as a thought for me. My father took me to a Muggle orphanage, and died shortly after giving my name ... but I vowed to find my mother ... I revenged myself upon her, that fool who, gave me her name ... _Dizra Maliay_ ..."

Still she paced, her eyes darting from grave to grave.

"Listen to me, reliving my family history ..." she said quietly. "Why, I am growing quite sentimental ... But look, Kiara! My _true_ family returns ..."

The air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Between graves, behind the yew tree, in every shadowy space, witches were Apparating. All of them were hooded and masked. And one by one they moved forwards ... slowly, cautiously, as though they could hardly believe their eyes. Zira stood in silence, waiting for them. Then one of the Love Destroyers fell to her knees, and kissed the hem of her red robes.

"Mistress ... mistress ..." she murmured.

The Love Destroyers behind her did the same; each of them approached Zira on her knees, and kissing her robes, before backing away and standing up, forming a silent circle, which enclosed Dizra Maliay's grave, Zira, the sobbing and twitching heap that was Wormy, his wife and me. Yet they left gaps in the circle, as though waiting for more people. Zira, however, did not seem to expect more. She looked around at the hooded faces, and though there was no wind, a rustling seemed to run around the circle, as though it had shivered.

"Welcome, Love Destroyers," said Zira quietly. "Thirteen years ... thirteen years since we last met. Yet you answer my call as though it was yesterday ... we are still united under the Death Trail, then! _Or are we?_ "

She put back her terrible face and sniffed, her slit-like nostrils widening.

"I smell guilt," she said. "There is a stench of guilt upon the air."

A second shiver ran around the circle, as though each member of it longed, but did not dare, to step back from her.

"I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact - such prompt appearances! - and I ask myself ... why did this band of witches never come to the aid of their mistress, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?"

No one spoke. No one moved except Wormy, who was upon the ground, still sobbing over his bleeding arm.

"And I answer myself," whispered Zira, "they must have believed me broken, they thought I was gone. They slipped back among my enemies, and they pleaded innocence, and ignorance, and bewitchment ...

"And then I ask myself, but how could they have believed I would not rise again? They, who knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death? They, who had seen proofs of the immensity of my power, in the times when I was mightier than any wizard living?

And I answer myself, perhaps they believed a still-greater power could exist, one that could vanquish even Lady Zira ... perhaps they now pay allegiance to another ... perhaps that champion of commoners, of Mudbloods, Sackbrains and Muggles, Susan Crighton?"

At the mention of Crighton's name, the members of the circle stirred, and some muttered and shook their heads.

Zira ignored them. "It is a disappointment to me ... I confess myself disappointed ..."

One of the women suddenly flung herself forwards, breaking the circle. Trembling from head to foot, she collapsed at Zira's feet.

"Mistress!" she shrieked. "Mistress, forgive me! Forgive us all!"

Zira began to laugh. She raised her wand. _"Crucio!"_

The Love Destroyer on the ground writhed and shrieked; I was sure the sound carried to the surrounding houses ... let the police come, I thought desperately ... anyone ... anything ...

Zira raised her wand. The tortured Love Destroyer lay flat upon the ground, trembling.

"Get up, Aakster," said Zira softly. "Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years ... I want thirteen years' repayment before I forgive you. Wormy and his wife here have paid off some of their debt already, have you not?"

She looked down at Wormy, who continued to sob, and then up at Wormy's wife, who was still watching Zira attentively.

"Unlike your wife, Wormy, you returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormy. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, mistress," moaned Wormy, "please, mistress ... please ..."

Zira raised her wand again and whirled it through the air. A streak of what looked like molten silver hung shining in the wand's wake. Momentarily shapeless, it writhed and then formed itself into a gleaming replica of a human hand, bright as moonlight, which soared down and fixed itself upon Wormy's bleeding wrist.

Wormy's sobbing stopped abruptly. His breathing harsh and ragged, he raised his head and stared in disbelief at the silver hand, now attached seamlessly to his arm, as though he were wearing a dazzling glove. He flexed the strong fingers, then, trembling, picked up a small twig on the ground, and crushed it into powder.

"My Lady," he whispered. "Mistress ... it is beautiful ... thank you ... _thank you_ ..."

He scrambled forwards on his knees and kissed the hem of Zira's robes.

"And what about you?" Zira said, turning her attentions on Wormy's wife. "What would you like as a reward?"

"My Lady, you have already rewarded me," Wormy's wife said, "by teaching my husband a lesson. I therefore ask for nothing, and I hope that my husband's loyalty shall never waver again, as you can be assured that I will be faithful to you until I die."

"I hope your loyalty will never fade, Alice," said Zira. "And I am glad you approve of my punishment on your husband. And seeing as there is nothing more I can do to reward you, come forth and join us."

Wormy stood up and quickly stepped aside, as his wife dashed in front of Zira, fell to her knees and kissed the hem of her robes. Then she stood up, and she and Wormy took their places in the circle, Wormy staring at his powerful new hand, with his face shining with tears, and his wife was staring at Zira gleefully. Zira took no more notice of them, and approached the woman on Wormy's wife's right.

"Nerissa, my slippery friend," she whispered, halting before her. "I am told that you have not renounced the old ways, though to the world you present a respectable face. You are still ready to take the lead in a spot of Muggle-torture, I believe? Yet you never tried to find me, Nerissa ... your exploits at the Quidditch Friendly were fun, I daresay ... but might not your energies have been better directed towards finding and aiding your mistress?"

"My Lady, I was constantly on the alert," came Nerissa Malty's voice swiftly from beneath the hood. "Had there been any sign from you, any whisper of your whereabouts, I would have been at your side immediately, nothing could have prevented me - "

"And yet you ran from my Trail, when a faithful Love Destroyer sent it into the sky last summer?" said Zira lazily, and Mrs Malty stopped talking abruptly. "Yes, I know all about that, Nerissa ... you have disappointed me ... I expect more faithful service in future ."

"Of course, my Lady, of course ... you are merciful, thank you ..."

Zira moved on, and stopped, staring at the space - large enough for two people - which separated Malty and the next woman.

"Katalina Outsider - as I am told she is called now - and her husband should stand here," said Zira quietly. "But she is in Azkaban ... for I told Katalina to possess one of Crighton's children, for information about her mother ... what she found out, I shall know when the time comes ... for Katalina is faithful. She went to Azkaban rather than renounce me ... when Azkaban is broken open once more, Katalina will be honoured beyond her wildest dreams, and her husband, Nuka, shall be welcomed officially into our ranks. The Stingers will join us ... they are our natural allies ... we will recall the banished giants ... I shall have my devoted servant returned to me, and an army of creatures whom all fear ..."

She walked on. Some of the Love Destroyers she passed in silence, but she paused before others, and spoke to them (just so you know, I had no idea about who that child of Crighton's was that was possessed, until the Great Battle of Dragon Mort).

"Magro ...destroying dangerous beasts for the Ministry of Magic now, Wormy and his wife tell me? You shall have better victims than that soon, Magro. Lady Zira will provide ..."

"Thank you, mistress ... thank you," murmured Magro.

"And here," Zira moved on to the two largest hooded figures, "we have Crate ... you will do better this time, will you not, Crate? And you, Gabber?"

They curtseyed clumsily, muttering dully.

"Yes, mistress ..."

"We will, mistress ..."

"The same goes for you, Necchi," said Zira quietly, as she walked past a stooped figure in Mrs Gabber's shadow.

"My Lady, I prostrate myself before you, I am your most faithful - "

"That will do," said Zira.

She had reached the largest gap of all, and she stood surveying it with her blank, red eyes, as though she could see people standing there.

"And here we have seven missing Love Destroyers ... four dead in my service. One, too cowardly to return ... she will pay. One, who I believe has left me for ever ... she will be killed, of course ... and one, who remains my most faithful servant, and who has already re-entered my service."

The Love Destroyers stirred; I saw their eyes dart sideways at each other through their masks.

"She is at Dragon Mort, that faithful servant, and it is through her efforts that our young friend arrived tonight ...

"Yes," said Zira, a grin curling her lipless mouth, as the eyes of the circle flashed in my direction. "Kiara Pride-Lander has kindly joined us for my rebirthing party. One might go so far as to call her my guest of honour."

There was a silence. Then the Love Destroyer to the right of Wormy's wife stepped forward, and Nerissa Malty's voice spoke from under the mask.

"Mistress, we crave to know ... we beg you to tell us ... how have you achieved this ... this miracle ... how you managed to return to us ..."

"Ah, what a story it is, Nerissa," said Zira. "And it begins - and ends - with my young friend here."

She walked lazily over to stand next to me, so that the eyes of the whole circle were upon the two of us. The snake continued to circle.

"You know, of course, that they have called this girl my downfall?" Zira said softly, her red eyes upon me, and my scar began to burn so fiercely that I almost screamed in agony. "You all know that on the day I lost my powers and my body, I tried to kill her. Her father placed a powerful protection in her the moment he held the little baby Kiara in his arms; for after what happened to his son, he did not wish to lose his daughter ... and I knew that Nala was pregnant, for after I asked two of my followers to place Kopa's body somewhere far away from the Pride-Lands, and they took him away, Simba and Nala showed up. They were shocked by what had happened, for there was blood on the ground, and when Simba touched his wife's stomach, that's how I knew that there was another way to try and get the Pride-Landers to join me. But I digress. Kiara's father provided her with a protection I had not foreseen ... I could not touch the girl."

Zira raised one of her long white fingers, and put it very close to my cheek. "Her father's greatest protection in her was something I had no idea about until years later ... this is old magic, I should have remembered it, I was foolish to overlook it ... but no matter. I can touch her now."

I felt the cold white tip of the finger touch me, and I thought my head would burst from the pain.

Zira laughed softly in my ear, then took the finger away, and continued addressing the Love Destroyers. "I miscalculated, my friends, I admit it. My curse was deflected by the man's foolish protection and it rebounded upon me. Aaah ... pain beyond pain, my friends; nothing could have prepared me for it. I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the merest ghost ... but still, I was alive. What I was, even I do not know ... I, who have gone further than anybody, along the path that leads to immortality - well, except for Lord Voldemort, of course. Anyway, you know my goal - to conquer death. And now, I was tested, and it appeared that one or more of my experiments had worked ... for I had not been killed, though the curse should have done it. Nevertheless, I was as powerless as the weakest creature alive, and without the means to help myself ... for I had no body, and every spell which might have helped me required the use of a wand ...

"I remember only forcing myself, sleeplessly, endlessly, second by second, to exist ... I settled in a faraway place, in a forest, and I waited ... surely, one of my faithful Love Destroyers would try and find me ... one of them would come and perform the magic I could not, to restore me to a body ... but I waited in vain ..."

The shiver ran once more around the circle of listening Love Destroyers. Zira let the silence spiral horribly before continuing. "Only one power remained to me. I could possess the bodies of others. But I dared not go where other humans were plentiful, for I knew that the Aurors were still abroad and searching for me. I sometimes inhabited animals - snakes, of course, being my preference - but I was little better off inside them than as pure spirit, for their bodies were ill-adapted to perform magic ... and my possession of them shortened their lives; none of them lasted long ...

"Then ... four years ago ... the means for my return seemed assured. A witch - young, foolish and gullible - wandered across my path in the forest I had made my home. Oh, she seemed the very chance I had been dreaming of ... for she was a teacher at Crighton's school ... she was easy to bend to my will ... she brought me back to Britain, and after a while, I took possession of her body, to supervise her closely as she carried out my orders. But my plan failed. I did not manage to steal the Mirror of Wishes. I was not to be assured immortal life. I was thwarted ... thwarted, once again, by Kiara Pride-Lander ..."

Silence once more; nothing was stirring, not even the leaves on the yew tree. The Love Destroyers were quite motionless, the glittering eyes in their masks fixed upon Zira, and upon me.

"The servant died when I left her body, and I was left as weak as ever I had been;" Zira continued. "I returned to my hiding place far away, and I will not pretend to you that I didn't then fear that I might never regain my powers ... yes, that was perhaps my darkest hour ... I could not hope that I would be sent another witch to possess ... and I had given up hope, now, that any of my Love Destroyers cared what had become of me ..."

One or two of the masked witches in the circle moved uncomfortably, but Zira took no notice.

"And then, not even a year ago, when I had almost abandoned hope, it happened at last ... two servants returned to me: Wormy and his wife here, who faked their own deaths to escape justice, were driven out of hiding by those they had once counted friends, and decided to return to their mistress. They sought me in the country where it had been long rumoured I was hiding ... helped, of course, by the rats they met along the way. Wormy has a curious affinity with rats, do you not, Wormy? Seeing as his wife is more cat-like, she hid herself carefully, as her husband's filthy little friends told him there was a place, deep in an Albanian forest, that they avoided, where small animals like themselves had met their deaths by a dark shadow that possessed them ...

"But your journey back to me was not so smooth, was it, Absters? For, hungry one night, on the edge of the very forest where they had hoped to find me, they foolishly stopped at an inn for some food ... and whom should they meet there, but one Bernard Jenkins, a wizard from the Ministry of Magic?

"Now see the way that fate favours Lady Zira. This might have been the end of the Absters, and of my last hope for regeneration. But Wormy - displaying a presence of mind I would never have expected from him, with a little help from his wife, of course - convinced Bernard Jenkins, who might have ruined all, proved instead to be a gift beyond my wildest dreams ... for - with a little persuasion - he became a veritable mine of information.

"He told me that the Triwizard Tournament would be played at Dragon Mort this year. He told me that he knew of a faithful Love Destroyer who would be only too willing to help me, if I could only contact her. He told me many things ... but the means I used to break the Memory Charm upon him were powerful, and when I had extracted all useful information from him, his mind and body were both damaged beyond repair. He had now served his purpose. I could not possess him. I disposed of him."

Zira smiled her terrible smile, her red eyes blank and pitiless.

"The Absters' bodies, of course, were both ill-adapted for possession, as all assumed them dead, and either of them would attract far too much attention if seen. However, they were the able-bodied servants I needed, and, poor wizard though he is, Wormy had help from his wife, and therefore they were able to follow the instructions I gave them, which would return me to a rudimentary, weak body of my own, a body I would be able to inhabit while awaiting the essential ingredients for true rebirth ... a spell or two of my own invention ... a little help from my dear Namzo," - Zira's red eyes fell upon the continually circling snake - "a potion concocted from unicorn blood, and the snake venom Namzo provided ... I was soon returned to an almost human form, and was strong enough to travel.

"There was no hope of stealing the Mirror of Wishes anymore, for I knew that Crighton would have seen to it that it was destroyed. But I was willing to embrace mortal life again, before chasing immortal. I set my sights lower ... I would settle for my old body back again, and my old strength.

"I knew that to achieve this - it is an old piece of Dark Magic, the potion that revived me tonight - I would need three powerful ingredients. Well, one of them was already at hand, was it not, Wormy? Flesh given by a servant ...

"My mother's bone, naturally, meant that we would have to come here, where she was buried. But the blood of a foe ... Wormy would have had me use any wizard, would you not, Wormy? Any wizard who had hated me ... as so many of them still do. But I knew the one I must use, if I was to rise again, more powerful than I had been when I had fallen. I wanted Kiara Pride-Lander's blood. I wanted the blood of the one who had stripped me of power thirteen years ago, for the lingering protection her father once gave her, would then reside in my veins, too ...

"But how to get at Kiara Pride-Lander? For she has been better protected than I think she even knows, protected in ways devised by Crighton long ago, when it fell to her to arrange the girl's future. Crighton invoked an ancient magic, to ensure the girl's protection as long as she is in her relation's care. Not even I can touch her there ... then, of course, there was the Quidditch Friendly ... I thought her protection might be weaker there, away from her relations and Crighton, but I was not yet strong enough to attempt kidnap in the midst of a horde of Ministry wizards. And then, the girl would return to Dragon Mort, where she is under the crooked nose of that Muggle-loving fool from morning until night. So how could I take her?

"Why ... by using Bernard Jenkins' information, of course. Use my one faithful Love Destroyer, stationed at Dragon Mort, to ensure that the girl's name was entered into the Goblet of Fire. Use my Love Destroyer to ensure that the girl won the Tournament - that she touched the Triwizard Cup first - the Cup which my Love Destroyer had turned into a Portkey, which would bring her here, beyond the reach of Crighton's help and protection, and into my waiting arms. And here she is ... the girl you all believed had been my downfall ..."

Zira moved slowly forward, and turned to face me. She raised her wand. _"Crucio!"_

It was pain beyond anything I have ever experienced; my very bones felt like they were on fire; I felt like my head was surely splitting along my scar; my eyes were rolling madly in my head; I wanted it to end ... to black out ... to die ...

And then it was gone. I was hanging limply in the ropes binding me to the headstone of Zira's mother, looking up into those bright red eyes through a kind of mist. The night was ringing with the sound of the Love Destroyers' laughter.

"You see, I think, how foolish it was to suppose that this girl could ever have been stronger than me," said Zira. "But I want there to be no mistake in anybody's mind. Kiara Pride-Lander escaped me by a lucky chance. And I am now going to prove my power by killing her, here and now, in front of you all, when there is no Crighton to help her, and no parents to die for her. She will be allowed to fight, and you will be left in doubt which of us is the stronger. Just a little longer, Namzo," she whispered, and the snake glided away through the grass, to where the Love Destroyers stood watching.

"Now untie her, Wormy, and give her back her wand."


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

 **Priori Incantatem**

 **KIARA**

Wormy approached me, and I scrambled to my feet, unable to find my feet, to support my own weight before the ropes were untied. Wormy raised his new silver hand, pulled out the wad of material that gagged me and then, with one swipe, cut through the bonds that had me tied to the gravestone.

There was a split second, perhaps, when I might have considered running for it, but my injured leg shook under me as I stood on the overgrown grave, as the Love Destroyers closed ranks, forming a tighter circle around Zira and I, so that the gaps where the missing Love Destroyers should have stood were filled. Wormy then thrust my wand roughly into my hand without looking at me. Then Wormy returned to his place in the circle of watching Love Destroyers.

"You have been taught to duel, Kiara Pride-Lander?" said Zira softly, her red eyes glinting through the darkness.

At these words I remembered, as though from a former life, the Duelling Club at Dragon Mort I had attended briefly in my second year ... all I had learnt there was the Disarming spell, _"_ _Expelliarmus"_ ... and I then wondered, what use would it be, even if I could, to have deprive Zira of her wand, when she was surrounded by her Love Destroyers, outnumbered by at least thirty to one? I had never learnt anything that could possibly have prepared me for that back then. I knew I was facing the thing against which Grumpy had always warned ... the unblockable Avada Kedavra curse - and Zira was right - my parents were not there to defend and die for me ... I was quite unprotected ...

"We bow to each other, Kiara," said Zira, bending a little, but keeping her snake-face upturned towards mine. "Come, the niceties must be observed ... Crighton would like you to show manners ... bow to death, Kiara ..."

The Love Destroyers were laughing again. Zira's lipless mouth was smiling. I did not bow. I was not going to let Zira play with me before she killed me ... I was not going to give her that satisfaction ...

"I said, _bow_ ," Zira said, raising her wand - and I felt my spine curve as though a huge, invisible hand was bending me ruthlessly forwards, and the Love Destroyers laughed harder than ever.

"Very good," said Zira softly, and as she raised her wand, the pressure bearing down upon me lifted too. "And now you face me, like a woman ... straight-backed and proud, the way I will have your parents when I come to kill them ...

"And now - we duel."

Zira raised her wand, and before I could do anything to defend myself, before I could even move, I had been hit again by the Cruciatus Curse. The pain was so intense, so all-consuming, that I no longer knew where I was ... it felt like white-hot knives were piercing every inch of my skin, and I thought that my head was surely going to burst with the pain; I was screaming more loudly than I had ever screamed before -

And then it stopped. I rolled over and scrambled to my feet; I was shaking as uncontrollably as Wormy had done when his hand had been cut off; I staggered sideways into the wall of watching Love Destroyers, and they pushed me away, back towards Zira.

"A little break," said Zira, the slit-like nostrils dilating with excitement, "a little pause ... that hurt, didn't it, Kiara? You don't want me to do that again, do you?"

I didn't answer. I thought I was going to die like Georgia at that moment, and that those pitiless red eyes told me so ... I was going to die, and there was nothing I could do about it ... but I wasn't going to play along. I wasn't going to obey Zira ... I wasn't going to beg ...

"I asked you whether you want me to do that again?" said Zira softly. "Answer me! _Imperio!"_

And I felt, for the third time in my life, the sensation that my mind had been wiped of all thought ... ah, its was bliss, not to think, it was as though I was floating, dreaming ... _just answer "no" ... say "no" ... just answer "no" ..._

I will not, said a stronger voice, in the back of my head, I won't answer ...

 _Just answer "no" ..._

I won't do it, I won't say it ...

 _Just answer "no" ..._

"I WON'T!"

And these words burst from my mouth; they echoed through the graveyard, and the dream state was lifted as suddenly as though cold water had been thrown over me - back rushed the aches that the Cruciatus Curse had left all over my body - back rushed the realisation of where I was, and what I was facing ...

"You won't?" said Zira quietly, and the Love Destroyers were not laughing now. "You won't say "no"? Kiara, obedience is a virture I need to teach you before you die ... perhaps another little dose of pain?"

Zira raised her wand, but this time I was ready; with the reflexes born of my Quidditch training, I flung myself sideways onto the ground; I rolled behind the marble headstone of Zira's mother, and I heard it crack as the curse missed me.

"We are not playing hide-and-seek, Kiara," said Zira's soft, cold voice, drawing nearer, as the Love Destroyers laughed. "You cannot hide from me. "Does this mean you are tired of our duel? Does this mean that you would prefer me to finish it now, Kiara. Come out, Kiara ... come out and play, then ... it will be quick ... it might even be painless ... I would not know ... I have never died ..."

I crouched behind the headstone, and I knew the end had come. There was no hope ... no hope to be had. And as I heard Zira draw nearer still, I knew one thing only, and it was beyond fear or reason - I was not going to die crouching there like a child playing hide-and-seek, I was not going to die kneeling at Zira's feet ... I was going to die upright like some of the many wizards who had faced Zira before me, and I was going to die trying to defend myself, even if no defence was possible ...

Before Zira could stick her snake-like face around the headstone, I had stood up ... I gripped my wand tightly in my hand, thrust it out in front of me, and threw myself around the headstone, facing Zira.

Zira was ready. As I shouted _"Expelliarmus!"_ , Zira cried, _"Avada Kedavra!"_

And just as fat had favoured Zira, fate then favoured me; for what happened next, neither of us expected to happen, and I was grateful for it, because it's one of the reasons I am still alive today. You see, my dear readers, a jet of green light shot out of Zira's wand just as a jet of red light blasted from mine - they met in mid-air - and suddenly, my wand was vibrating as though an electric charge was surging through it; I couldn't have released it even if I'd wanted to - and a narrow beam of light connected our wands, neither red nor green light, but bright, deep gold - and as I followed the beam with my astonished gaze, I saw that Zira's long white fingers, too, were gripping a wand that was shaking and vibrating.

And then - nothing could have prepared me for it - I felt my feet lift from the ground. Zira and I were both being raised into the air, our wands still connected by that thread of shimmering golden light. We were gliding away from the tombstone of Zira's mother, and we then came to rest on a patch of ground that was clear and free of graves ... The Love Destroyers were shouting, they were asking Zira for instructions; they were closing in, re-forming the circle around Zira and I, the snake slithering at their heels, some of them drawing their wands -

The golden thread connecting mine and Zira's wands splintered: though the wands remained connected, a thousand more offshoots arced high over Zira and I, criss-crossing all around us, until we were enclosed in a golden, dome-shaped web, a cage of light, beyond which the Love Destroyers circled like jackals, their cries strangely muffled ...

"Do nothing!" Zira shrieked to the Love Destroyers, and I saw her red eyes wide with astonishment at what was happening, saw her fight to break the thread of light that still connected her wand with mine; I held onto my wand more tightly, with both hands, and the golden thread remained unbroken. "Do nothing unless I command you!" Zira shouted to the Love Destroyers.

And then an unearthly and beautiful sound filled the air ... it was coming from every thread of the light-spun web vibrating around Zira and I. It was a sound I recognised, though I had only heard it once before this point in my life ... the phoenix song ...

To me, it was the sound of hope ... the most beautiful and welcome thing I have ever heard in my life ... I felt as though the song was inside me instead of just around me ... it was the sound I connected with Crighton, and it was almost as though a friend was speaking in my ear ...

 _Don't break the connection._

I know, I told the music, I know I mustn't ... but no sooner had I thought it, than the thing became much harder to do. My wand began to vibrate more powerfully than ever ... and now the beam between Zira and I changed, too ... it was as though large beams of light were sliding up and down the thread connecting our wands - I felt my wand give a shudder under my hand, as the light beads began to slide slowly and steadily my way ... the direction of the beam's movement was now towards me, from Zira, and I felt my wand shudder angrily ...

As the nearest beam of light moved nearer to my wand tip, the wood beneath my fingers grew so hot I feared it would burst into flame. The closer that beam moved, the harder my wand vibrated; I was sure my wand would not survive contact with it; it felt as though it was about to shatter under my fingers -

I concentrated every last particle of my mind upon forcing the bead backwards towards Zira, my ears full of phoenix song, my eyes furious, fixated ... and slowly, very slowly, the beads quivered to a halt, and then, just as slowly, they began to move the other way ... and it was Zira's wand that was vibrating extra-hard now ... Zira who looked astonished, and almost fearful ...

One of the beads of light was quivering, inches from the tip of Zira's wand. I didn't understand why I was doing it, didn't know what it might achieve ... but I concentrated never as I have done before or since, on forcing that bead of light right back into Zira's wand ... and slowly ... very slowly ... it moved along the golden thread ... it trembled for a moment ... and then it connected ...

At once, Zira's wand began to emit echoing screams of pain ... then - Zira's red eyes widened with shock - a dense, smoky hand flew out of the tip of it and vanished ... the ghost of the hand she had made Wormy ... more shouts of pain ... and then something much longer began to blossom from Zira's wand tip, a great, greyish something that looked as though it was made of the solidest, dense smoke ... it was a head ... then chest and arms ... the torso of Georgia Diggs.

If ever I might have released my wand from shock, it would have been then, but instinct kept me clutching my wand tightly, so that the thread of golden light remained unbroken, even though the thick grey ghost of Georgia Diggs ( _was_ it a ghost? It looked so solid) emerged in its entirety from the end of Zira's wand, as though it was squeezing itself out of a very narrow tunnel ... and this shade of Georgia stood up, and looked up and down the golden thread of light, and spoke.

"Hold on, Kiara," it said.

Its voice was distant and echoing. I looked at Zira ... her wide, red eyes were still shocked ... she had no more expected this than I had ... and, very dimly, I heard the frightened yells of the Love Destroyers, prowling around the edges of the golden dome ...

More screams of pain from the wand ... and then something else emerged from its tip ... the dense shadow of a second head, quickly followed by arms and a torso ... an old woman I had once seen in a dream was pushing herself out of the end of the wand just as Georgia had done ... and her ghost, or her shadow, or whatever it was, fell next to Georgia's, and surveyed Zira and I, and the golden web, and the connected wands, with mild surprise, leaning on her walking stick ...

"She was a real witch, then?" the old woman said, her eyes on Zira. "Killed me, that one did ... you fight her, girl ..."

But already, yet another head was emerging ... and this head, grey as a smoky statue, was a man's ... my arms were shaking as I fought to keep my wand still, as I saw him drop to the ground and straighten up like the others, staring ...

The shadow of Bernard Jenkins surveyed the battle before him with wide eyes.

"Don't let go, now!" he cried, and his voice echoed like Georgia's, as though from very far away. "Don't let her get you, Kiara - don't let go!"

He and the other two shadowy figures began to pace around the inner walls of the golden web, while the Love Destroyers flitted around the outside of it ... and Zira's dead victims - not just these three, but others, too, witches, wizards and Muggles alike, that I had never seen before in my life - whispered as they circled we duellers, whispering words of encouragement to me, and hissed words I couldn't hear to Zira.

And then another head was emerging from the tip of Zira's wand ... the smoky shadow of a broad man with a mane of long, ruly hair fell to the ground as the others had done, straightened up, and looked at me ... and even though I had only seen him once, I knew exactly who he was ... his face was slightly rounder than my father's was, and his eyes slightly smaller ... but he was my grandfather Mufasa (now, I bet many of you are wondering just how on Earth he came out of the tip of Zira's wand, when Zira wasn't old enough to own a wand when my grandfather was alive, aren't you? Well, I'm afraid you're going to have to wait until book seven to find out why that was). Grandfather Mufasa then walked close to me, and spoke in the same distant, echoing voice as the others, but quietly, so that Zira, her face livid with fear as her victims prowled around her, could not hear ...

"When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments ... but we will give you time ... you must get to the Portkey, it will return you to Dragon Mort ... do you understand, Kiara?" Grandfather Mufasa whispered urgently in his deep, powerful voice.

"Yes," I gasped, as I struggled to keep a hold on my wand, which slipped and slid beneath my fingers.

"Kiara ..." whispered the figure of Georgia, "take my body back, will you? Take my body back to my parents ..."

"I will," I said, my face screwed up with the effort of holding the wand.

"You are my son's daughter," Grandfather Mufasa said, his smoky eyes beaming with pride. "Now, do it now ... be ready to run ... do it now ..."

"NOW!" I yelled; I didn't think I could have held on for another moment anyway - I pulled my wand upwards with an almighty wrench, and the golden thread broke; the cage of light vanished, the phoenix song dies - but the shadowy figures of Zira's victims did not disappear - they were closing in upon Zira, shielding me from her gaze -

And I ran as I had never run before, knocking two stunned Love Destroyers aside as I passed; I zig-zagged behind headstones, feeling their curses following me, hearing them hit the headstones - I was dodging curses and graves, pelting towards Georgia's body, no longer aware of the pain in my leg, my whole being concentrated on what I had to do -

 _"Stun her!"_ I heard Zira scream.

Ten feet from Georgia, I dived behind a marble angel to avoid the jets of red light and I saw the tip of its wing shatter as the spells hit it. Gripping my wand more tightly, I dashed out from behind the angel -

 _"Impedimenta!"_ I bellowed, pointing my wand wildly over my shoulder at the Love Destroyers running at me.

From a muffled yell, I thought I had stopped at least one of them, but I didn't stop to look around; I jumped over the Cup and dived as I heard more wand blasts behind me; more jets of light flew over my head as I fell, stretching out my hand to grab Georgia's arm -

"Stand aside! I will kill her! She is mine!" shrieked Zira.

My hand had closed on Georgia's wrist; one tombstone stood between Zira and I, but Georgia was too heavy to carry, and the Cup was just out of reach -

Zira's red eyes flamed in the darkness. I saw her mouth curl into a smile, saw her raise her wand.

 _"Accio!"_ I yelled, pointing my wand at the Triwizard Cup.

It flew into the air, and soared towards me - I caught it by the handle -

I heard Zira's scream of fury at the same moment as I felt the jerk behind my navel that meant the Portkey had worked - it was speeding me away in a whirl of wind and colour, Georgia along with me ... we were going back ...


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

 **Veritaserum**

 **KIARA**

I felt myself slam flat into the ground; my face was pressed into the grass, the smell of it filled my nostrils. I had my eyes closed while the Portkey transported me, and I kept them closed then. I did not move. All the breath seemed to have been knocked out of me; my head was swimming so badly I felt as though the ground beneath me was swaying like the deck of a ship. To hold myself, steady, I tightened my hold on the two things I was still clutching - the smooth, cold handle of the Triwizard Cup, and Georgia's body. I felt as though I would slide away into the blackness gathering at the edges of my brain if I let go of either of them. Shock and exhaustion kept me on the ground, breathing in the smell of the grass, waiting ... waiting for someone to do something ... something to happen ... and all the while, my scar burnt dully on my forehead ...

A torrent of sound deafened and confused me, there were voices everywhere, footsteps, screams ... I thought I heard Sian screaming for her mother in the midst of my confusion, but I couldn't be sure ... I remained where I was, my face screwed up against the noise, as though it was a nightmare that would pass ...

Then a pair of hands seized me roughly and turned me over.

"Kiara! _Kiara!_ "

I opened my eyes.

I was looking up at the starry sky, and Susan Crighton was crouched over me, with Sian knelt next to her. The dark shadows of a crowd of people pressed in around us, pushing nearer; I felt the ground beneath my head reverberating with their footsteps.

I had come back to the edge of the maze. I could see the stands rising above me, the shapes of people moving in them, the stars above.

I let go of the Cup, but I clutched Georgia to me even more tightly. I raised me free hand and seized Crighton's wrist, while Crighton's face swam in and out of focus.

"She's back," I whispered. "She's back. Zira."

"What's going on? What's happened?"

I saw Sian give an "I-told-you-so" look to her mother, as the face of Cornelia Sweets appeared upside-down over me; it looked white, appalled.

"My God - Diggs!" it whispered. "Crighton - she's dead!"

The words were repeated, the shadowy figures pressing in on us gasped it to those around them ... and then others shouted it - screeched it - into the night - "She's dead!" "She's _dead_!" "Georgia Diggs _Dead!_ "

"Kiara, let go of her," I heard Sweets' voice say, and I felt fingers trying to prise me from Georgia's limp body, but I wouldn't let her go.

Then Crighton's face, which was still blurred and misted, came closer. "Kiara, you can't help her now. It's over. Let go."

"She wanted me to bring her back," I muttered - it seemed important to explain this. "She wanted me to bring her back to her parents ..."

"That's right, Kiara ... just let go, now ..."

Crighton bent down and, with extraordinary strength for a woman so old and thin, raised me from the ground, and set me on my feet. I swayed. My head was pounding. My injured leg was no longer supporting my weight. The crowd around us jostled, fighting to get closer, pressing darkly in on me - "What's happened?" "What's wrong with her?" _"Diggs' dead!"_

"She'll need to go to the hospital wing!" Sweets was saying loudly. "She's ill, she's injured - Crighton, Diggs' parents, they're here, they're in the stands ..."

"I'll take Kiara, Crighton ... I'll take her ..."

"No, I would prefer - "

"Crighton, Alesha Diggs' running ... she's coming over ... don't you think you should tell her - before she sees - ?"

"Kiara, stay here - "

Girls were screaming, sobbing hysterically ... the scene flickered oddly before my eyes ...

"It's all right, lassie, come on, I've got you ... come on ... hospital wing ..."

"Crighton said stay," I said thickly, as the pounding in my scar made me feel as though I was about to throw up, and my vision was blurring worse than ever.

"You need to lie down ... come on, now ..."

Someone larger and stronger than I was, was half pulling, half carrying me through the frightened crowd; I heard them gasping, screaming and shouting as the woman supporting me pushed a path through them, taking me back to the castle. Across the lawn, past the river and the Uagadou sub; I heard nothing but the heavy breathing of the woman helping me walk ...

 **SIAN**

Sian was standing there, listening to the sounds of the frightened crowd, and lost in her own thoughts. She was sad that Georgia, who was so good, and did not deserve to die so soon and so young, was dead; she felt sorry for Kiara, who did not have to see someone die - especially at such a young age. But Sian knew that everything was going to change from this moment on, and that this was the moment that their childhoods had started to leave them, and that the crueller, harsher world of adulthood was fast approaching.

Sian then thought of her mother, and of the warning she had given her just after Kiara's name had been pulled from the Goblet. Sian knew something bad was going to happen, ever since the Death Trail had been seen at the Quidditch Friendly, and was amazed that she had been the only one to see the dangers of Kiara being entered. Well, at least Ma'll start taking me more seriously from now on, Sian thought, satisfied by this.

She was brought out of her thoughts by Alesha Diggs' heart-wrenching screams as the poor woman knelt by her daughter's dead body. She felt her eyes start to sting, and felt her heart go out to the woman who would never see the great person her daughter would have become. But then, Sian's tears stopped, as she was brought to the attention of her Scanner, which had started beeping madly again. Ever since Grumpy's first appearance in the school, her Scanner had been going haywire, which was why she always turned it off before she went into one of Grumpy's classes. But when she impatiently pulled it out, looked at the screen and saw what it said, she gasped aloud, shocked by what she saw. She then wondered, for a brief moment, whether the Scanner was lying to her, but Sian quickly shook her head at the thought, for she knew her Scanner never lied. She then jumped as she felt her mother's hand on her shoulder. Sian looked up into her mother's face, and saw her mother's eyes were fixed on her Scanner.

"So, Professor Grumpy isn't who she seems to be, after all?" Crighton said thoughtfully.

Sian sighed, and said, "I'm sorry, Ma. I didn't know - "

"It's quite all right, my darling," her mother said gently. "It wasn't just you she fooled, after all."

Sian smiled up at her, grateful that her mother wasn't angry, either. Her mother's eyes sparkled, before she turned to Professor Darbus, Professor Triphorm and Cornelia Sweets.

"Cornelia, it seems I have an issue with one of my staff that needs to be attended to immediately. Could you please ask Spud to talk to Georgia's parents while I deal with the problem?"

Sweets looked taken aback, but did as Crighton asked. Sian then watched as her mother turned to Darbus and Triphorm.

"Deidre? Tiana?" Crighton said to them. "I need you both to come with me, now. I'm afraid to say that Professor Grumpy isn't who she said she is, and I believe that Kiara is in danger. Will you help me?"

Sian saw Darbus and Triphorm look shocked and slightly confused by what her mother has said, but was relieved that they didn't ask questions, and agreed to do whatever Crighton asked of them. Crighton smiled at them, and then turned back to Sian. Sian didn't give her mother the chance to speak. She just pulled out her wand and said, "I'm right behind you, Ma." Mother and daughter smiled at each other in understanding, and then they led the way back to the castle, with Darbus and Triphorm bringing up the rear. As they walked, Sian hoped that Kiara was all right, and that they would get to her before it was too late ...

 **KIARA**

"What happened, Kiara?" the woman asked at last, as she lifted me up the stone steps. _Clunk. Clunk. Clunk._ It was Crazy-Head Grumpy.

"Cup was a Portkey," I said, as we entered the Entrance Hall. "Took me and Georgia to a graveyard ... and Zira was there ... Lady Zira ..."

 _Clunk. Clunk. Clunk._ Up the marble staircase.

"The Scarlet Lady was there? What happened then?"

"Killed Georgia ... they killed Georgia ..."

"And then?"

 _Clunk. Clunk. Clunk._ Along the corridor ...

"Made a potion ... got her body back ..."

"The Scarlet Lady got her body back? She's returned?"

"And the Love Destroyers came ... and then we duelled ..."

"You duelled with the Scarlet Lady?"

"Got away ... my wand ... did something funny ... I saw my grandfather Mufasa ... he came out of her wand ..."

"In here, Kiara ... in here, and sit down ... you'll be all right now ... drink this ..."

I heard a key scrape in a lock, and felt a cup being pushed into my hands.

"Drink it ... you'll feel better ... come on now, Kiara, I need to know exactly what happened ..."

Grumpy helped tip the stuff down my throat; I coughed, a peppery taste burning my throat. Grumpy's office came into sharper focus, and so did Grumpy herself ... she looked as white as Sweets, and all six of her eyes were fixed unblinkingly upon my face.

"Zira's back, Kiara? You're sure she's back? How did she do it?"

"She took stuff from her mother's grave, and from Wormy, and me," I said. My head felt clearer; my scar wasn't hurting so badly; I could now see Grumpy's face distinctly, even though the office was dark. I could still hear screaming and shouting from the distant Quidditch pitch.

"What did the Scarlet Lady take from you?" said Grumpy.

"Blood," I said, raising my arm. My sleeve was ripped where Wormy's dagger had torn it.

Grumpy let out her breath in a long, low hiss. "And the Love Destroyers? They returned?"

"Yes," I said. "Loads of them ..."

"How did she treat them?" Grumpy asked quietly. "Did she forgive them?"

But I suddenly remembered. I should have told Crighton, I should have said it straightaway - "There's a Love Destroyer at Dragon Mort! There's a Love Destroyer here - they put my name in the Goblet of Fire, they made sure I got through to the end - "

I tried to get up, but Grumpy pushed me back down.

"I know who the Love Destroyer is," she said quietly.

"Kula?" I said wildly. "Where is she? Have you got her? Is she locked up?"

"Kula?" said Grumpy with an odd laugh. "Kula fled tonight, when she felt the Death Trail burn on her arm. She betrayed too many faithful supporters of the Scarlet Lady to wish to meet them ... but I doubt she will get far. The Scarlet Lady has ways of tracking her enemies."

"Kula's _gone_? She ran away? But then - she didn't put my name in the Cup?"

"No," said Grumpy slowly. "No, she didn't. It was I who did that."

I heard, but didn't believe.

"No, you didn't," I said. "You didn't do that ... you can't have done ..."

"I assure you I did," said Grumpy, and her magical eyes swung around and were fixed upon the door, and I knew that she was making sure that there was no one outside it. At the same time, Grumpy drew out her wand, and pointed it at me.

"She forgave them, then?" she said. "The Loves Destroyers who went free? The ones who escaped Azkaban?"

"What?" I said.

I was looking at the wand Grumpy was pointing at me. I thought desperately that it was a bad joke, for it just had to be.

"I asked you," said Grumpy quietly, "whether she forgave the scum who never even went to look for her. Those treacherous cowards who wouldn't even brave Azkaban for her. The faithless, worthless bits of filth who were brave enough to cavort in masks at the Quidditch Friendly, but fled at the sight of the Death Trail when I fired it into the sky."

" _You_ fired ... what are you talking about ...?"

"I told you, Kiara ... I told you. If there's one thing I hate more than any other, it's a Love Destroyer who walked free. They turned their backs on my mistress, when she needed them most. I expected her to punish them. I expected her to torture them. Tell me, Kiara ..." Grumpy's face was suddenly lit with an insane smile. "Tell me she told them that I, I alone remained faithful ... prepared to risk everything to deliver to her the one thing she wanted above all ... _you_."

"You didn't ... it - it can't be you ..."

"Who put your name in the Goblet of Fire, under the name of a different school? I did. Who frightened off every person I thought might try to hurt you or prevent you winning the Tournament? I did. Who nudged Mina into showing you the dragons? I did. Who helped you see the only way you could beat the dragon? _I did._ "

Grumpy's four magical eyes had now left the door. They were fixed upon me. Her lop-sided mouth leered more widely than ever. "It hasn't been easy, Kiara, guiding you through these tasks without arousing suspicion. I have had to use every ounce of cunning I possess, so that my hand would not be detectable in your success. Crighton would have been very suspicious if you had managed everything too easily. As long as you got into that maze, preferably with a decent head start - then, I knew, I would have a chance of getting rid of the other Champions, and leaving your way clear. But I also had to contend against your stupidity. The second task ... that was when I was most afraid that we would fail. I was keeping watch on you, Pride-Lander. I knew you hadn't worked out the egg's clue, so I had to give you another hint - "

"You didn't," I said hoarsely. "Georgia gave me the clue - "

"Who told Georgia to open it underwater? I did. I trusted that she would pass the information onto you. Decent people are so easy to manipulate, Pride-Lander. I was sure Georgia would want to repay you for telling her about the dragons, and so she did. But even then, Pride-Lander, even then you seemed likely to fail. I was watching all the time ... all those hours in the library. Didn't you ralise that the book you needed was in Nikita Bore's hands all along? _Magical Mediterranean Water-Plants and Their Properties._ It was a hint, you see. A hint to what you needed. It would have told you all you needed to know about Gillyweed. I expected you to ask everyone and anyone you could for help. Bore would have told you in an instant, which would then have led to the Eldest Dawson Girl to remember those sweets she gave you, for they have traces of Gillyweed in them. That's why you managed to breathe so long underwater. But you did not ask for help ... you did not ... you have a streak of pride and independence that might have ruined all.

"So what could I do to help you? Feed you information from another innocent source. You told me at the Yule Ball a house-elf called Dokey had given you a Christmas present. I called the elf to the staff room to collect some robes for cleaning. I staged a loud conversation with Professor Darbus about the hostages who had been taken, and whether Pride-Lander would think to use one of those Gillyweed sweets. And your little elf friend ran straight to the Lion-Heart common room to find you ..."

Grumpy's wand was still pointing directly at my heart. Over her shoulder, foggy shapes were moving in the Foe-Glass on the wall. "You were so long in that lake, Pride-Lander, I thought you had drowned, or had been eaten by the Paleman. But luckily, Crighton took your idiocy for nobility, and marked you high for it. I breathed again.

"You had an easier time of it than you should have done in that maze tonight, of course," said Grumpy. "That was because I was patrolling around it, able to see through the outer hedges, able to curse many obstacles out of your way. I Stunned Ferdinand Desjardin as he passed. I put the Imperius Curse on Outsider, so that he would finish Diggs, and leave your path to the Cup clear."

I stared at Grumpy. I just didn't see how this could be ... Crighton's friend, the famous Auror ... the one who had caught so many Love Destroyers ... it made no sense to me at that moment ... no sense at all ...

The foggy shapes in the Foe-Glass were sharpening, had become more distinct. I could see the outlines of four people over Grumpy's shoulder, moving closer and closer. But Grumpy wasn't watching them. Her four magical eyes were all upon me.

"The Scarlet Lady didn't manage to kill you, Pride-Lander, and she _so_ wanted to," whispered Grumpy. "Imagine how she will reward me, when she finds I have done it for her. I gave you to her - the thing she needed above all to regenerate - and then I killed you for her. I will be honoured beyond all Love Destroyers. I will be her dearest, her closest supporter ... closer than a daughter ..."

Grumpy's normal eyes were bulging, the magical eyes fixed upon me. The door was barred, and I knew I wouldn't reach my own wand in time ...

"The Scarlet Lady and I," said Grumpy, and she looked completely insane now, towering over me, leering down at me, "have much in common. Both od us, for instance, had very disappointing mothers ... very disappointing indeed. Both of us suffered the indignity, Kiara, of being named after those mothers. And both of us had the pleasure ... the very great pleasure ... of killing our mothers, to ensure the continued rise of the Dark Order!"

"You're mad," I said - I couldn't help myself - "you're mad!"

"Mad, am I?" said Grumpy, her voice rising uncontrollably. "We'll see! We'll see who's mad, now that the Scarlet Lady has returned, with me at her side! She is back, Kiara Pride-Lander, you did not conquer her - and now - I conquer you!"

Grumpy raised her wand, she opened her mouth, and I plunged my own hand into my robes -

 _"Stupefy!"_ There was a blinding flash of red light, and with great splintering and crashing, the door of Grumpy's office was blasted apart -

Grumpy was thrown backwards onto the office floor. I, who had been staring at the place where Grumpy's face had been, saw Susan Crighton, Sian Dawson, Professor Darbus and Professor Triphorm looking back at me out of the Foe-Glass. I looked around, and saw the four of them standing in the doorway, Crighton in front, her wand outstretched, as was Sian's.

At that moment, I fully understood for the first time why people said Crighton was the only witch Zira had ever feared. The look on Crighton's face as she stared down at the unconscious form of Crazy-Head Grumpywas more terrible than I could ever have imagined. There was no benign smile upon Crighton's face, no twinkle in those emerald green eyes. There was cold fury in every line of the ancient face; a sense of power radiated from Crighton as though she was giving off burning heat. Similarly, Sian wore an expression quite like her mother's, but was quickly replaced by a look of relief as soon as she saw me.

"Kiara, are you OK?"

Too shocked to speak, I nodded my head vigorously, as Crighton stepped into the office, placed a foot underneath Grumpy's unconscious body and kicked her over onto her back, so that her face was visible. Triphorm followed her, looking into the Foe-Glass, where her own face was still visible, glaring into the room.

Sian and Professor Darbus came straight over to me.

"Come along, Pride-Lander," Professor Darbus whispered. The thin line of her mouth was twitching as though she was about to cry. "Come along ... hospital wing ..."

"No," said Crighton sharply.

"Crighton, she ought to - look at her - she's been through enough tonight - "

"She will stay, Deidre, because she needs to understand," said Crighton curtly. "Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery. She needs to know who has put her through the ordeal she has suffered tonight, and why."

"Grumpy," I said. I was still in a state of complete disbelief. "How can it have been Grumpy?"

"This is not Aoife Grumpy," said Crighton quietly. "You have never known Aoife Grumpy. The real Grumpy would not have removed you from my sight after what happened tonight. The moment she took you, I knew - which was confirmed, furthermore, by the information on Sian's Scanner - and I followed."

Crighton bent down over Grumpy's limp form and put a hand inside her robes. She pulled out Grumpy's hip-flask, and a set of keys on a ring. Then she turned to Professor Darbus, Triphorm and Sian.

"Tiana, please fetch me the strongest Truth Potion you possess, and then go down to the kitchens, and bring up the house-elf called Blinky. Deidre, kindly go down to Mina's house, where you will find two large black dogs sitting in the pumpkin patch, along with Sarabi. Take Sarabi and the dogs up to my office, tell them I will be with them shortly, then come back here. Sian, you stay here with me."

Sian's instruction was easy enough to follow, for all she did was nod her head curtly and stayed put, but whether Triphorm or Darbus found their instructions peculiar, they hid their confusion. Both turned at once, and left the office. Crighton walked over to the trunk with seven locks, fitted the first key in the lock, and opened it. It contained a mass of spellbooks. Crighton closed the trunk, placed a second key in the second lock, and opened the trunk again. The spellbooks had vanished; this time it contained an assortment of broken Sneakoscopes, some parchment and quills, and what looked like a silvery Invisibility Cloak. I watched, astounded, as Crighton placed the third, fourth, fifth and sixth keys in their respective locks, reopening the trunk each time, and revealing different contents each time. Then she placed the seventh key in the lock, threw open the lid, and I let out a cry of amazement, as Sian gasped in surprise.

We were looking down into a kind of pit, an underground room, and lying on the floor some ten feet below, apparently asleep, thin and starved in appearance, was the real Crazy-Head Grumpy. Her wooden leg was gone, the dents which should have held her four magical eyes on her head looked black and empty without them, and chinks of her grizzled hair was missing. I stared, thunder-struck, between the sleeping Grumpy in the trunk, and the unconscious Grumpy lying on the floor of the office.

Crighton climbed into the trunk, lowered herself and fell lightly onto the floor beside the sleeping Grumpy. She bent over her.

"Stunned - controlled by the Imperius Curse - very weak," she said. "Of course, they would have needed to keep her alive. Sian, throw down the impostor's cloak, Aoife is freezing. Matron will need to see her, but she seems in no immediate danger."

Sian did as she was told; Crighton covered Grumpy in the cloak, tucked it around her, and clambered out of the trunk again. For a second, I wondered why Sian wasn't ignoring her mother anymore, but as Sian herself reminded me a few days later, it was because of the argument that she and her mother had had after my name had been pulled out of the Goblet of Fire, and now that the Tournament was over, there was no need for Sian to ignore her mother any longer. Anyhoo, Crighton then picked up the hip-flask and stood upon the desk, unscrewed it, and turned it over. A thick glutinous liquid splattered onto the office floor.

"Polyjuice Potion," said Sian simply.

"Yes," sighed Crighton. "You see the simplicity of it, and the brilliance. For Grumpy never _does_ drink except from her hip-flask, she's well known for it. The impostor needed, of course, to keep the real Grumpy close by, so that she could continue making the Potion. You see her hair ..." Crighton looked down on the Grumpy in the trunk. "The impostor has been cutting it off all year, see where it is uneven? But I think, in the excitement of tonight, our fake Grumpy might have forgotten to take it as frequently as she should have done ... on the hour ... every hour ... we shall see."

Crighton pulled out the chair at the desk and sat down upon it, her eyes fixed upon the unconscious Grumpy on the floor. Sian and I stared at her, too. Minutes passed in silence ...

Then, before our very eyes, the face of the woman on the floor began to change. The scars were disappearing, the skin was becoming smooth; the mangled nose became whole, and started to shrink. The long mane of grizzled grey hair withdrew into the scalp, and turned the colour of straw. Suddenly, with a loud _clunk_ , the wooden leg fell away as a normal leg regrew in its place; next moment, the four magical eyeballs had popped out of the woman's face and the skin on her forehead exposed, and became as smooth as the rest of her face; the four eyeballs rolled away across the floor and continued to swivel in every direction.

Sian and I saw a woman lying before us, pale-skinned, slightly freckled, with a mop of fair hair. I knew who she was. I had seen her in Crighton's Pensieve, had watched her being led away from court by the Dementors, trying to convince Mrs Clutch that she was innocent ... but she was lined around the eyes now, and looked much older ...

There were hurried footsteps outside in the corridor. Triphorm had returned with Blinky at her heels. Professor Darbus was right behind them.

"Clutch!" Triphorm said, stopping dead in the doorway. "Bea Clutch!"

"Good heavens!" said Professor Darbus, stopping dead and staring down at the woman on the floor.

Filthy, dishevelled, Blinky peered around Triphorm's legs. His mouth opened wide and he let out a piercing shriek. "Mistress Bea, Mistress Bea, what is you doing here?"

He flung himself forwards onto the young woman's chest. "You is killed her! You is killed her! You is killed mistress' daughter!"

"She is simply Stunned, Blinky," said Crighton. "Step aside, please. Tiana, you have the Potion?"

Triphorm handed Crighton a small glass bottle of completely clear liquid; the Veritaserum with which she had threatened me in class with. Crighton got up, bent over the woman on the floor, and pulled her into a sitting position against the wall beneath the Foe-Glass, in which the reflections of Crighton, Sian, Darbus and Triphorm were still glaring down upon us all. Blinky remained on his knees, trembling, his hands over his face. Crighton forced the woman's mouth open, and poured three drops inside it. Then she pointed her wand at the woman's chest, and said, _"Enervate."_

Clutch's daughter opened her eyes. Her face was slack, her gaze unfocused. Crighton knelt before her, so that their faces were level.

"Can you hear me?" Crighton asked quietly.

The woman's eyelids flickered.

"Yes," she muttered.

"I would like you to tell us," said Crighton softly, "how you came to be here. How did you escape from Azkaban?"

Clutch took a deep, shuddering breath, then began to speak in a flat, expressionless voice. "My father saved me. He knew he was dying. He persuaded my mother to rescue me as a last favour to him. She loved him as she had never loved me. She agreed. They came to visit me. They gave me a draught of Polyjuice Potion, containing one of my father's hairs. He took a draught of Polyjuice Potion, containing one of my hairs. We took on each other's appearance."

Blinky was shaking his head, trembling. "Say no more, Mistress Bea, say no more, you is getting your mother into trouble!"

But Clutch took another deep breath, and continued in the same flat voice. "The Dementors are blind. They sensed one healthy, one dying person entering Azkaban. They sensed one healthy, one dying person leaving it. My mother smuggled me out, disguised as my father, in case any prisoners were watching through their doors.

"My father died a short while afterwards in Azkaban. He was careful to drink Polyjuice Potion until the end. He was buried under my name, and bearing my appearance. Everyone believed him to be me."

The woman's eyelids flickered.

"And what did your mother do with you, when she had got you home?" said Crighton quietly.

"Staged my father's death. A quiet, private funeral. That grave is empty. The house-elf nursed me back to health. then I had to be concealed. I had to be controlled. My mother had to use a number of spells to subdue me. When I had recovered my strength, I thought only of finding my mistress ... of returning to her service."

"How did your mother subdue you?" said Crighton.

"the Imperius Curse," Clutch said. "I was under my mother's control. I was forced to wear an Invisibility Cloak day and night. I was always with the house-elf. He was my keeper and carer. He pitied me. He persuaded my mother to give me occasional treats. Rewards for my good behaviour."

"Mistress Bea, Mistress Bea," sobbed Blinky through his hands. "You isn't ought to tell them, we is getting in trouble ..."

"Did anybody ever discover that you were still alive?" said Crighton softly. "Did anyone know except your mother, and the house-elf?"

"Yes," said Clutch, her eyelids flickering again. "A wizard in my mother's office. Bernard Jenkins. He came to the house, with papers for my mother's signature. She was not at home. Blinky showed him inside and returned to the kitchen, to me. But Bernard Jenkins heard Blinky talking to me. He came to investigate. He heard enough to guess who was hiding under the Invisibility Cloak. My mother arrived home. He confronted her. She put a very powerful Memory Charm on him to make him forget what he'd found out. Too powerful. She said it damaged his memory permanently."

"Why is he coming to nose in my mistress' private business?" sobbed Blinky. "Why isn't he leaving us be?"

"Tell me about the Quidditch Friendly," said Crighton.

"Blinky talked my mother into it," said Clutch, still in the same monotonous voice. "He spent months persuading her. I had not left the house for years. I had loved Quidditch. Let her go, he said. She will be in her Invisibility Cloak. She can watch. Let her smell fresh air for once. He said my father would have wanted it. He told my mother that my father had died to give me freedom. He had not saved me for a life of imprisonment. She agreed in the end.

"It was carefully planned. My mother led myself and Blinky up to the Top Box early in the day. Blinky was to say that he was saving a seat for my mother. I was to sit there, invisible. When everyone had left the box, we would emerge. Blinky would appear to be alone. Nobody would ever know.

"But Blinky didn't know that I was growing stronger. I was starting to fight my mother's Imperius Curse. There were times when I was almost myself again. There were brief periods when I seemed outside her control. It happened, there, in the Top Box. It was like waking from a deep sleep. I found myself out in public, in the middle of the match, and I saw a wand sticking out of a girl's pocket in front of me. I had not been allowed a wand since before Azkaban. I stole it. Blinky didn't know. Blinky is frightened of heights. He had his face hidden."

"Mistress Bea, you bad girl!" whispered Blinky, tears trickling between his fingers.

"So you took the wand," said Crighton, "and what did you do with it?"

"We went back to the tent," said Clutch. "Then we heard them. We heard the Love Destroyers. The ones who had never been to Azkaban. The ones who had never suffered for my mistress. They had turned their backs on her. They were not enslaved as I was. They were free to seek her, but they did not. They were merely making sport of Muggles. The sound of their voices awoke me. My mind was clearer than it had been in years. I was angry. I had the wand. I wanted to attack them for their disloyalty to my mistress. My mother had left the tent, she had gone to free the Muggles. Blinky was afraid to see me so angry. He used his own brand of magic to bind me to him. He pulled me from the tent, pulled me into the forest, away from the Love Destroyers. I tried to hold him back. I wanted to return to the campsite. I wanted to show those Love Destroyers what loyalty to the Scarlet Lady meant, and to punish them for their lack of it. I used the stolen wand to cast the Death Trail into the sky.

"Ministry wizards arrived. They shot Stunning Spells everywhere. One of the spells came through the trees where Blinky and I stood. The bond connecting us was broken. We were both Stunned.

"When Blinky was discovered, my mother knew I must be nearby. She searched the bushes where she had been found, and felt my lying there. She waited until the other Ministry members had left the forest. She put me back under the Imperius Curse, and took me home. She dismissed Blinky. He had failed her. He had let me acquire a wand. He had almost let me escape."

Blinky let out a wail of despair.

"Now it was just mother and I, alone in the house. And then ... and then ..." Clutch's head rolled on her neck, and an insane grin spread across her face. "My mistress came for me.

"She arrived at our house late one night, in the arms of one of her servants - Wormy's wife, to be precise, and accompanied by Wormy himself. My mistress had captured Bernard Jenkins in Albania. She had tortured him. He told her a great deal. He told her about the Triwizard Tournament. He told her the old Auror, Grumpy, was going to teach at Dragon Mort. She tortured him until she broke through the Memory Charm my mother had placed upon him. He told her I had escaped from Azkaban. He told her my mother kept me imprisoned to prevent me seeking my mistress. And so my mistress knew that I was still her faithful servant - perhaps the most faithful of all. My mistress conceived a plan, based upon the information Bernard had given her. She needed me. She arrived at our house near midnight. My mother answered the door."

The smile spread wider over Clutch's face, as though she was recalling the sweetest memory of her life. Blinky's petrified brown eues were visible through his fingers. He seemed to appalled to speak.

"It was very quick. My mother was placed under the Imperius Curse by my mistress. Now my mother was the one imprisoned, controlled. My mistress forced her to go about her business as usual, to act as though nothing was wrong. And I was released. I awoke. I was myself again, alive as I hadn't been in years."

"And what did Lady Zira ask you to do?" said Crighton.

"She asked me whether I was ready to risk everything for her. I was ready. It was my dream, my greatest ambition, to serve her, to prove myself to her. She told me she needed to place a faithful servant at Dragon Mort. A servant who would guide Kiara Pride-Lander through the Triwizard Tournament without appearing to do so. A servant who would watch over Kiara Pride-Lander. Ensure she reach the Triwizard Cup. Turn the Cup into a Portkey, which would take the first person to touch it to my mistress. But first - "

"You needed Aoife Grumpy," said Crighton. Her green eyes were blazing, though her voice remained calm.

"Wormy, his wife and I did it. We had prepared the Polyjuice Potion beforehand. We journeyed to her house. Grumpy put up a struggle. There was a commotion. We managed to subdue her just in time. Forced her into a compartment of her own magical trunk. Took some of her hair and added it to the Potion. I drank it, I became Grumpy's double. I took the leg and they eyes for her head. I was ready to face Matthew Dawson when he arrived to sort out the Muggles who had heard a disturbance. I made the dustbins move around the yard. I told Matthew Dawson I had heard intruders in my yard, who had set the dustbins off. Then I packed up Grumpy's clothes and Dark detectors, put them in the trunk with Grumpy, and set off for Dragon Mort. I kept her alive, under the Imperius Curse. I wanted to be able to question her. To find out about her past, learn her habits, so that I could fool even Crighton. I also needed her hair to make the Polyjuice Potion. The other ingredients were easy. I stole Boomslang skin from the dungeons. When the Potions mistress found me in her office, I said I was under orders to search it."

"And what became of Wormy and his wife after you attacked Grumpy?" said Crighton.

"Wormy and his wife returned to care for my mistress, in my mother's house, and to keep watch over my mother."

"But your mother escaped," said Crighton.

"Yes. After a while she began to fight the Imperius Curse just as I had done. There were periods where she knew what was happening. My mistress decided it was no longer safe for my mother to leave the house. she forced her to send letters to the Ministry instead. She made her write and say she was ill. But Wormy neglected his duty. He was not watchful enough. My mother escaped. My mistress guessed that she was heading for Dragon Mort. She was going to tell Crighton everything, to confess. She was going to admit that she had smuggled me from Azkaban.

"My mistress sent me word of my mother's escape. She told me to stop her at all costs. So I waited and watched. I used the map I had taken from Kiara Pride-Lander. The map that had almost ruined everything."

"Map?" said Crighton quickly. "What map is this?"

"Pride-Lander's map of Dragon Mort. Pride-Lander saw me on it. Pride-Lander saw me stealing more ingredients from for the Polyjuice Potion from Triphorm's office one night. She thought I was my mother as we have the same first name. I took the map from Pride-Lander that night. I told her my mother hated Dark wizards. Pride-Lander believed my mother was after Triphorm.

"For a week I waited for my mother to arrive at Dragon Mort. At last, one evening, the map showed my mother entering the grounds. I pulled on my Invisibility Cloak, and went down to meet her. She was walking around the edge of the Forest. Then Pride-Lander came, and Outsider. I waited. I could not hurt Pride-Lander, my mistress needed her. Pride-Lander ran to get Crighton. I Stunned Outsider. I killed my mother."

 _"Noooo!"_ wailed Blinky. "Mistress Bea, Mistress Bea, what is you saying?"

"You killed your mother," Crighton said, in the same soft voice. "What did you do with the body?"

"Carried it into the Forest. Covered it with the Invisibility Cloak. I had the map with me. I watched Pride-Lander run into the castle. She met Triphorm. Crighton joined them. I watched Pride-Lander bringing Crighton out of the castle. I walked back out of the Forest, doubled round behind them, went to meet them. I told Crighton Triphorm had told me where to come.

"Crighton told me to go and look for my mother. I went back to my mother's body. Watched the map. When everyone was gone, I Transfigured my mother's body. She became a bone ... I buried it, while wearing the Invisibility Cloak, in the freshly dug earth in front of Mina's cabin."

There was complete silence now, except for Blinky's continued sobs.

Then Crighton said, "And tonight ..."

"I offered to carry the Triwizard Cup into the maze before dinner," whispered Bea Clutch. "Turned it into a Portkey. My mistress' plan worked. She is returned to power and I will be honoured by her beyond the dreams of wizards."

The insane smile lit her features once more, and her head drooped onto her shoulder as Blinky wailed and sobbed at her side.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

 **The Parting of the Ways**

 **KIARA**

Crighton stood up. She stared down at Bea Clutch for a moment with disgust on her face. Then she raised her wand once more and ropes flew out of it, ropes which twisted themselves around Bea Clutch, binding her tightly.

She turned to Professor Darbus. "Deidre, could I ask you to stand guard here while Sian and I take Kiara upstairs?"

"Of course," said Professor Darbus. She looked slightly nauseous, as though she had just watched someone being sick. However, when she drew out her wand and pointed it at Bea Clutch, her hand was quite steady.

"Tiana," Crighton turned to Triphorm, "please tell Matron to come down here. We need to get Aoife Grumpy into the hospital wing. then go down into the grounds, find Cornelia Sweets, and bring her up to this office. she will undoubtedly want to question Clutch herself. Tell her I will be in the hospital wing in half an hour's time if she needs me."

Triphorm nodded silently and swept out of the room.

"Kiara?" Crighton said gently.

I got up and swayed again; the pain in my leg, which I had not noticed all the time I had listened to Clutch, now returned in full measure. I also realised that I was shaking. Sian, who was standing next to me, quickly grabbed my arm to hold me steady. Crighton grabbed my other arm, and mother and daughter helped me out into the corridor.

"I want you to come to my office first, Kiara," she said quietly, as the three of us headed up the passageway. "Your parents and Sarabi are waiting for us there."

i nodded. A kind of numbness and a sense of complete unreality were upon me, but at that moment I did not care; I was even glad of it. I did not want to have to think about anything that had happened since I had first touched the Triwizard Cup. I didn't want to have to examine the memories, fresh and sharp as photographs, which kept flashing across my mind. Crazy-Head Grumpy, inside the trunk. Wormy, slumped on the ground, cradling his stump of an arm. Zira, rising from the steaming cauldron. Georgia ... dead ... Georgia, asking to be returned to her parents ...

"Professor," I mumbled, "where are Mr and Mrs Diggs?"

"They are with Spud," said Crighton. Her voice, which had been so calm throughout the interrogation of Bea Clutch, shook very slightly for the first time. "He was Head of Georgia's house, and knew her best." I then looked at Sian. She turned to me and smiled, but the smile didn't reach her eyes; they were shining brightly, as her lips quivered, and she was gulping convulsively.

We had reached the glass elevator. Crighton dropped three tokens into the slot, and we stepped inside. Seeing as Sian and her mother were supporting me, they grabbed onto a hook each with one hand, and held me tightly with the other. I didn't notice anything until we got out of the elevator, and Crighton pushed the oak door open.

My parents and Grandmother Sarabi were there. Grandmother Sarabi was looking out of a window with her back to the door. My mother was sat in the chair in front of the desk, watching my father nervously as he paced the floor. The three of them turned round to face Sian, Crighton and I when we came in. Their faces were white, and my parents' faces looked as gaunt as they had been when they had escaped Azkaban. My parents and Grandmother Sarabi looked at me, but it was my father who got to me first. "Kiara, are you all right? We knew it - your mother and I both knew something like this would - "

But I cut him off as I embraced him tightly, with my arms behind his back, and my face buried in his chest, never wanting to let go. I needed my father's love and protection at that moment, after all the horror I had faced that night. I felt my father stiffen for a moment, surprised by my actions I assumed, before he held me just as tightly. "Daddy," I breathed out shakily, letting his warmth and love comfort me, as he whispered soothing words to me, telling me that I was safe and that I had nothing to fear. Once I had calmed down a bit, my father and I let go, and he helped me to sit in one of the four chairs - three had been conjured magically by Crighton -, two of which contained my mother and Grandmother Sarabi. It was then that I noticed that Crighton was seated behind her desk, and that Sian was standing beside her, looking at me gently, as my father sat next to my mother, and I sat next to him. He squeezed my hand gently, and smiled at me with just as much gentleness, before he turned to Crighton, a much more serious expression crossing his features.

"What happened?" he asked Crighton urgently.

Crighton began to tell my parents and Grandmother Sarabi everything Bea Clutch had said. I was only half listening. I was so tired that every bone in my body ached, and I wanted nothing more than to sit there, undisturbed, for hours and hours, until I fell asleep, and I didn't have to think or feel anymore.

There was a soft rush of wings. Kenna the phoenix had left her perch, flown across the office, and landed on my knee.

"'Lo, Kenna," I said quietly. I stroked the phoenix's beautiful scarlet and gold plumage. Kenna blinked peacefully up at me. There was something comforting about her warm weight.

Crighton had stopped talking, and was looking at me. I avoided her eyes. Crighton was going to question me. She was going to make me relive everything.

"I need to know what happened after you touched the Portkey in the maze, Kiara," said Crighton.

"We can leave that 'til morning, can't we, Crighton?" said Mum harshly. She stood up, walked over to me and knelt beside my chair. "Look at her. She's suffered enough. Let her sleep. Let her rest."

I felt a rush of gratitude towards my mother, which I showed through my eyes to her, as she brushed a few strands of hair out of my face, but Crighton took no notice of my mother's words, and my father didn't seem to agree with them, either.

"No, Nala. This cannot wait until morning," he said solemnly.

Mum and I both looked at him, shocked.

"Simba?" Mum said, looking shocked and hurt at what Daddy said. "Look at our daughter! Don't you - "

"Of course I care, Nala, and I understand how you're feeling and what Kiara's been through, but will you at least give me a chance to explain to you and Kiara why this can't wait until morning?" I saw my father look pleadingly at my mother, who looked unsure for a few moments, before she nodded her head in assent. My father gave her a curt nod, and then fixed his gaze on me. He gave my hand another squeeze, then said, "Kiara, I understand that tonight's been tough for you, and that you would rather forget what's happened, lock yourself away and never say a word about this to anyone until you're ready to do so. But you can't do that, my daughter. I'm sorry, Kiara," he said, noticing the pain in my eyes, "but numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. I should know ... I've had my own share of horror and pain ..." It was then that I saw that my father looked like he had aged incredibly, and a terrible sadness seeped into his eyes. When he saw my questioning look, he shook his head and said, "You will know what I'm talking about someday, Kiara, but not today. Not now. You've faced too much horror tonight, without me having to divulge the horrors of my past to you, too. Besides, we have to know what happened. Because now that Zira's back, everything you tell us, Kiara, is vital to the cause."

"Exactly, Simba," Crighton said, and smiled with gratitude. She then turned to me, and said, "Your father is right, Kiara, and I would have said the same thing. Kiara, you have shown bravery beyond anything any of us here could have expected of you. I ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time. I ask you to tell us what happened."

The phoenix let out one soft, quavering note. It shivered in the air, and I felt as though a drop of hot liquid had slipped down my throat into my stomach, warming me, and strengthening me.

I took a deep breath, and began to tell them. As I spoke, visions of everything that had passed that night seemed to rise before my eyes; I saw the sparkling surface of the potion which had revived Zira; I saw the Love Destroyers Apparating between the graves all around us; I saw Georgia's body, lying on the ground beside the Cup.

My mother or Grandmother Sarabi would make a noise every so often, as though either one of them was about to say something. My mother's hand was on my shoulder, and Grandmother Sarabi was leaning forwards in her chair, and every time either of them wanted to say something, either my father would give them a look not to talk, or Crighton would raise her hand to stop them, and I was glad of this, because it was easier to keep going once I had started. It was even a relief; I felt as though something poisonous was being extracted from me; it was costing me every bit of determination I had to keep talking, yet I sensed that once I had finished, I would feel better.

When I told of Wormy piercing my arm with the dagger, however, my father stood up in outrage, my mother flung her arms around me and sobbed into my hair, Grandmother Sarabi shrieked and Sian put her hand over her mouth in shock as her face paled. Then Crighton stood up so quickly that I started. Crighton walked around the desk and told me to stretch out my arm. I showed them all the place where my robes were torn, and the cut beneath them.

"She said my blood would make her stronger than if she'd used someone else's," I told Crighton. "She said the protection - " I hesitated as I looked up at my father, who looked down at me, the outrage gone from his eyes. He looked at me expectantly, so I took a deep breath, and said, "The protection you gave me, Daddy - she'd have it, too. And she was right - she could touch me without hurting herself. She touched my face."

My father sank, shocked, back into his seat, breathing hard and not saying a word as I looked at Crighton; and for a fleeting moment, I thought I saw a gleam of triumph in Crighton's eyes. But next second, I was sure I had imagined it, for when Crighton had returned to her seat behind her desk, she looked as old and weary as I had ever seen her.

"Very well," she said, sitting down again. "Zira has overcome that particular barrier. "Kiara, continue, please."

I went on; I explained how Zira had emerged from the cauldron, and I told them all I could remember of Zira's speech to the Love Destroyers. Then I told them how Zira had untied me, returned my wand to me, and prepared to duel.

But when I reached the part where the golden beam of light had connected mine and Zira's wands, I found my throat obstructed. I tried to keep talking, but the memories of what had come out of Zira's wand were flooding into my mind. I could see Georgia emerging, see the old woman, Bernard Jenkins ... many others ... my grandfather Mufasa ...

I was glad when Sian broke the silence.

"Why did the wands connect, Mother?" she said, looking at her mother earnestly for answers.

I looked at Crighton again, and on her face I saw an arrested look.

"Priori Incantatem," she muttered.

Her eyes gazed into mine and it was almost as though an invisible beam of understanding shot between us.

"The reverse effects spell?" Grandmother Sarabi said sharply.

"Exactly," said Crighton. "Kiara's wand and Zira's wand share cores. Each of them contains a feather from the tail of the same phoenix. _This_ phoenix, in fact," she added, and she pointed at the scarlet and gold bird, perching peacefully on my knee.

"My wand's feather came from Kenna?" I said, amazed.

"Yes," said Crighton. "Madam Wandwick wrote to tell me you had bought the second wand, the moment you left her shop four years ago."

"So, what happens when a wand meets its sister?" my father said.

"Well, _brother_ /sister, in this case, to be precise, Simba."

" _Brother_ /sister? But how? I - " But then my father saw Crighton's pointed look, and comprehension dawned on him, which was quickly replaced by the look of pain again. "Oh," was all he said. I kept looking from Crighton to my father, hoping one of them would say something, but I didn't get any answers (and none of you will be getting any until the seventh book, I'm afraid).

"Anyway, when a wand shares its core with another wand," Crighton continued after a while, "they will not work properly against each other. If, however, the owners of the wands force the wands to do battle ... a very rare effect will take place.

"One of the wands will force the other to regurgitate spells it has performed - in reverse. The most recent first ... and then those which preceded it ..."

She looked interrogatively at me, and I nodded.

"Which means," said Crighton slowly, her eyes upon my face, "that some form of Georgia must have reappeared."

I nodded again.

"Diggs came back to life?" Mum said sharply.

"No spell can reawaken the dead," said Crighton heavily. "All that would have happened is a kind of reverse echo. A shadow of the living Georgia would have emerged from the wand ... am I correct, Kiara?"

"She spoke to me," I said. I was suddenly shaking again. "The ... the ghost of Georgia, or whatever she was, spoke."

"An echo," said Crighton, "which retained Georgia's appearance and character. I am guessing other such forms appeared ... less recent victims of Zira's wand ..."

"An old woman," I said, my throat still constricted. Bernard Jenkins. Many others, people I didn't know. And ..."

"Your grandfather Mufasa?" said Crighton quietly.

"Yes," I said.

My parents and Grandmother Sarabi looked at each other, surprised. Then my father turned to me, and said slowly, "What did my father say to you, Kiara?"

"Not much," I said, my voice hollow." "He told me that he and the others would linger for a few moments so that I could escape, after I broke the connection. He then said that I am my father's daughter, with pride in his voice and eyes, before he told me to let go ..."

Grandmother Sarabi started sobbing, as my mother left my side to sit next to my father again and held him as he sank back in his chair and raised his eyes to the ceiling, his eyes shining, but a smile stretched across his lips.

"The last of many murders the wand performed," said Crighton, nodding. "In reverse order. More would have appeared, of course, had you maintained the connection. Very well, Kiara, these echoes, these shadows ... what did they do?"

I described how the figures which had emerged from the wand had prowled the edges of the golden web, how Zira had seemed to fear them, how the shadow of my grandfather had told me what to do (in a bit more detail), how Georgia's had made its final request.

At this point, I found I could not continue. I looked around at my father, and as I did so, he hugged me again, so tightly, that I felt my father's warmth and love and protection envelope me, keeping me safe.

I then became aware that Kenna had left my knee. The phoenix had fluttered to the floor. It was resting its beautiful head against my injured leg, and thick, pearly tears were falling from its eyes onto the wound left by the spider. The pain vanished. The skin mended. My leg was repaired.

"I will say it again," said Crighton, as the phoenix rose into the air, and resettled itself upon the perch beside the door. "You have shown bravery beyond anything any of us here could have expected of you tonight, Kiara. You have shown bravery equal to those who died fighting Zira at the height of her powers. You have shouldered a great wizard's burden and found yourself equal to it - and you have now given us all we have a right to expect. You will come with me to the hospital wing. I do not want you returning to the dormitory tonight. A Sleeping Potion, and some peace ... Simba, Nala, Sarabi, would you like to stay with her?"

My parents and Grandmother Sarabi nodded, and stood up. My parents transformed back into the great black dogs, and walked with Crighton, Sian, Grandmother Sarabi and I out of the office, accompanying us down a flight of stairs to the hospital wing.

When Crighton pushed open the door, I saw Chris, Sam and Chrissie gathered around a harassed-looking Matron. They appeared to be demanding to know where I was and what had happened to me.

All of them whipped around as Crighton, Sian, Grandmother Sarabi, the two great black dogs and myself entered, and Chris let out a kind of muffled sigh of relief. "Kiara! Oh, Kiara!"

He started to walk towards me, but Crighton moved between us.

"Chris, my boy," she said, holding up a hand, "please listen to me for a moment. Kiara has been through a terrible ordeal tonight. She has just had to relive it for me. What she needs now is sleep, and peace, and quiet. If she would like you all to stay with her," she added, looking around at Sam and Chrissie, too, "you may do so. But I do not want you questioning her until she is ready to answer, and certainly not this evening."

Chris nodded. He was very white.

He then rounded on Chrissie, and said, "You heard what Ma said, Chrissie!" Chrissie looked confused, and put her arms up in defence, as if to say, "What have I done?" I heard Sian chuckle behind me.

"Headmistress," said Matron, staring at the great black dogs that were my parents, "may I ask what - ?"

"These dogs are remaining with Kiara for a while," said Crighton simply. "I assure you, they are extremely well trained. Kiara - I will wait while you get into bed."

I felt an inexpressible sense of gratitude to Crighton for asking the others not to question me. It wasn't as though I didn't want them there; but the thought of explaining it all over again, the idea of reliving it one more time, was more than I could stand at that moment.

"I will be back to see you as soon as I have met with Sweets, Kiara," said Crighton. "I would like you to remain here tomorrow, until I have spoken to the school." She left.

As Matron led me to a nearby bed, I caught sight of the real Grumpy, lying motionless in a bed at the far end of the room. Her wooden leg and magical eyes were lying on the bedside table.

"Is she OK?" I asked.

"She'll be fine," said Matron, giving me some pyjamas and pulling screens around me. I took off my robes, pulled on the pyjamas and got into bed. Chris, Sian, Chrissie, Sam, Grandmother Sarabi and the two black dogs came around the screen and settled themselves in chairs on either side of me. Chris and Chrissie were looking at me cautiously, as though they were scared of me.

"I'm all right," I told them. "Just tired."

Grandmother Sarabi's eyes filled with tears again as she smoothed my bedcovers unnecessarily.

Matron, who had bustled off to her office, returned holding a goblet and a small bottle of some purple potion.

"You'll need to drink all of this, Kiara," she said. "It's a potion for dreamless sleep."

I took the goblet and drank a few mouthfuls. I felt myself becoming drowsy at once. Everything around me became hazy; the lamps around the hospital wing seemed to be winking at me in a friendly way through the screen around me; my body felt as though it was sinking deeper into the warmth of the feather mattress. Before I could finish the potion, before I could say another word, my exhaustion had carried me off to sleep.

0000

I woke up, so warm, so very sleepy, that I didn't open my eyes, wanting to drop off again. The room was still dimly lit; I was sure it was still night-time, and I had a feeling that I couldn't have been asleep for very long.

Then I heard whispering around me.

"They'll wake her if they don't shut up!"

"What are they shouting about? Nothing else can have happened, can it?"

I opened my eyes blearily. Seeing as I was still dazed from sleep, everything was quite blurry; when I opened my eyes, I saw the fuzzy outlines of Grandmother Sarabi and Sam close by. Grandmother Sarabi was on her feet.

"That's Sweets' voice," she whispered. "And that's Deidre Darbus', isn't it? But what are they arguing about?"

Then I heard them, too: people shouting and running towards the hospital wing.

"Regrettable, but all the same, Deidre - " Cornelia Sweets was saying loudly.

"You should never have brought it inside the castle!" yelled Professor Darbus. "When Crighton finds out - "

I heard the hospital doors burst open. Unnoticed by any of the people around my bed, all of whom were staring at the door as Sam pulled back the screens, I rubbed my eyes, and sat up.

Sweets came striding up the ward. Professors Darbus and Triphorm were at her heels.

"Where's Crighton?" Sweets demanded of Grandmother Sarabi.

"She's not here," said Grandmother Sarabi angrily. "This is a hospital wing, Minister, don't you think you'd do better to - "

But the door opened, and Crighton came sweeping up the ward.

"What has happened?" said Crighton sharply, looking from Sweets to Professor Darbus. "Why are you disturbing these people? Deidre, I am surprised at you - I asked you to stand guard over Bea Clutch - "

"There is no need to stand guard over her any more, Crighton!" she shrieked. "The Minister has seen to that!"

I had never seen Professor Darbus lose control like that. There were angry blotches of colour in her cheeks, her hands were balled into fists; she was trembling with fury.

"When we told Mrs Sweets that we had caught the Love Destroyer responsible for tonight's events," said Triphorm, in a low voice, "she seemed to feel her personal safety was in question. She insisted on summoning a Stinger to accompany her into the castle. She brought it up to the office where Bea Clutch - "

"I told her you would not agree with it, Crighton!" stormed Professor Darbus. "I told her you would never allow Stingers to set foot inside the castle, but - "

"My dear woman!" roared Sweets, who likewise looked angrier than I had ever seen her. "As Minister for Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous - "

But Professor Darbus' voice drowned Sweets'.

"The moment that - that thing entered the room," she screamed, pointing at Sweets, trembling all over, "it swooped down on Clutch and - and - "

I felt a chill in my stomach as Professor Darbus struggled to find words to describe what had happened. I did not need her to finish her sentence. I knew what the Stinger must have done. It had administered its fatal suck to Clutch. It had sucked her soul out through her mouth. She was worse than dead.

"By all accounts, she is no loss!" blustered Sweets. "It seems she has been responsible for several deaths!"

"But she cannot now give testimony, Cornelia," said Crighton. She was staring hard at Sweets, as though seeing her properly for the first time. "She cannot give evidence about why she killed those people."

"Why she killed them? Well, that's no mystery, is it?" blustered Sweets. "She was a raving lunatic! From what Deidre and Tiana have told me, she seems to have thought she was doing it all on She-You-Know's instructions!"

"Lady Zira _was_ giving her instructions, Cornelia," Crighton said. "Those people's deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Zira to full strength again. The plan succeeded. Zira has been restored to her body."

Sweets looked as though someone had just swung a heavy weight into her face. Dazed and blinking, she stared back at Crighton as if she couldn't quite believe what she had just heard.

She began to splutter, still goggling at Crighton. "She-You-Know ... returned? Preposterous. Come now, Crighton ..."

"As Deidre and Tiana have doubtless told you," said Crighton, "we heard Bea Clutch confess. Under the influence of Veritaserum, she told us how she was smuggled out of Azkaban, and how Zira - learning of her continued existence from Bernard Jenkins - went to free her from her mother, and used her to capture Kiara. The plan worked, I tell you. Clutch has helped Zira to return."

"See here, Crighton," said Sweets, and I was astonished to see a slight smile dawning on her face, "you - you can't seriously believe that. She-You-Know - back? Come now, come now ... certainly, Clutch may have _believed_ herself to be acting upon She-You-Know's orders - but to take the word of a lunatic like that, Crighton ..."

"When Kiara touched the Triwizard Cup tonight, she was transported straight to Zira," said Crighton steadily. "She witnessed Lady Zira's rebirth. I will explain it all to you if you will step up to my office."

Crighton glanced around at me and saw that I was awake, but shook her head, and said, "I am afraid I cannot permit you to question Kiara tonight."

Sweets' curious smile lingered.

She too glanced at me, then looked back at Crighton, and said, "You are - er - prepared to take Kiara's word on this, are you, Crighton?"

There was a moment's silence, which was broken by my parents growling. Their hackles were raised, and they were both glaring at Sweets.

"Certainly I believe Kiara," said Crighton. Her eyes were blazing now. "I heard Clutch's confession, and I heard Kiara's account of what happened after she touched the Triwizard Cup; the two stories make sense, they explain everything that has happened since Bernard Jenkins disappeared last summer."

Sweets still had that strange smile on her face. Once again, she glanced at me before answering. "You are prepared to believe that Lady Zira has returned, on the word of a lunatic murderer, and a girl who ... well ..."

Sweets shot me another look, and I suddenly understood.

"You've been reading Peter Meter, Mrs Sweets," I said quietly.

Chris, Sian, Chrissie, Sam and Grandmother Sarabi all jumped. None of them had realised I had woken up.

Sweets reddened slightly, but a defiant and obstinate look came over her face.

"And if I have?" she said, looking at Crighton. "If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the girl very quiet? A Parshydamouth, eh? And having funny turns all over the place - "

"I assume that you are referring to the pains Kiara has been experiencing in her scar?" said Crighton coolly.

"You admit that she has been having these pains, then?" said Sweets quickly. "Headaches? Nightmares? Possibly - hallucinations?"

"Listen to me, Cornelia," said Crighton, taking a step towards Sweets, and once again she seemed to radiate that indefinable sense of power that I had felt after Crighton had Stunned young Clutch. "Kiara is as sane as you or I. That scar upon her forehead has not addled her brains. I believe it hurts her when Lady Zira is close by, or feeling particularly murderous."

Sweets had taken half a step back from Crighton, but she looked no less stubborn. "You'll forgive me, Crighton, but I've heard of a curse scar acting as an alarm bell before ..."

"Look, I saw Zira come back!" I shouted. I tried to get out of bed again, but Grandmother Sarabi forced me back. "I saw the Love Destroyers! I can give you their names! Nerissa Malty - "

Triphorm made a sudden movement, but as I looked at her, Triphorm's eyes flew back to Sweets.

"Malty was cleared!" said Sweets, visibly affronted. "A very old family - donations to excellent causes - "

"Magro!" I continued.

"Also cleared! Now working for the Ministry!"

Aakster - Necci - Crate - Gabber - "

"You are merely repeating the names of those who were acquitted of being Love Destroyers thirteen years ago!" said Sweets angrily. "You could have found those names in old reports of the trials! for heave's sake, Crighton - the girl was full of some crackpot story at the end of last year, too - her tales are getting taller, and you're still swallowing them - the girl can talk to snakes and other reptiles, Crighton, and you still think she's trustworthy?"

"You fool!" Professor Darbus cried. "Georgia Diggs! Mrs Clutch! These deaths were not the random work of a lunatic!"

"I see no evidence to the contrary!" shouted Sweets, now matching her anger, her face purpling. "It seems to me that you are all determined to start a panic that will destabilise everything we have worked for these last ten years!"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Up until that moment, I had always thought of Sweets as a kindly figure, a little blustering, a little pompous, but essentially good-natured. But as I looked at her, all I saw was a short, angry witch who was refusing, point-blank, to accept the prospect of disruption in her comfortable and ordered world - to believe that Zira could have risen.

"Zira has returned," Crighton repeated. "If you accept that fact straight away, Sweets, and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation. The first and most essential step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the Stingers - "

"Preposterous!" shouted Sweets again. "Remove the Stingers! I'd be kicked out of office for suggesting it! Half of us only feel safe in our beds at night because we know the Stingers are standing guard at Azkaban!"

"The rest of us sleep less soundly in our beds, Cornelia, knowing that you have put Lady Zira's most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures who will join her the instance she asks them!" said Crighton. "They will not remain loyal to you, Sweets! Zira can offer them much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can! With the Stingers behind her, and her old supporters returned to her, you will be hard pressed to stop her regaining the sort of power she had thirteen years ago!"

Sweets was opening and closing her mouth as though no words could express her outrage.

"The second step you must take - and at once," Crighton pressed on, "is to send envoys to the giants."

"Envoys to the giants?" Sweets shrieked, finding her tongue again. "What madness is this?"

"Extend them the hand of friendship, now, before it is too late," said Crighton, "or Zira will persuade them, as she did before, that she alone among wizards will give them their rights and their freedom!"

"You - you cannot be serious!" Sweets gasped, shaking her head, and retreating further from Crighton. "If the magical community got wind that I had approached the giants - people hate them, Crighton - end of my career - "

"You are blinded," said Crighton, her voice rising now, the aura of power around her palpable, her eyes blazing once more, "by the love of the office you hold, Cornelia! You place too much importance, and you always have done, on the so-called purity of blood! You fail to recognise that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be! Your Stinger has just destroyed the last remaining member of a pure-blood family as old as any - and see what that woman chose to make of her life! I tell you now - take the steps I have suggested, and you will be remembered, in office or out, as one of the bravest and greatest Ministers for Magic we have ever known. Fail to act - and history will remember you as the woman who stepped aside, and allowed Zira a second chance to destroy the world we have tried to rebuild since Lord Voldemort was destroyed - and we all remember what mistakes Minister Fudge made when Voldemort came back the second time round, don't we?"

"Just because mistakes were made before, doesn't mean they'll happen again! Besides, what you're saying is - is insane," Sweets said, still backing away. "Mad ..."

And then there was silence. Matron was standing frozen at the foot of my bed, her hands over her mouth. Grandmother Sarabi stood over me, her hand on my shoulder to prevent me from rising. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and Sam were staring at Sweets.

"If your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, Cornelia," said Crighton, "we have reached a parting of the ways. You must act as you see fit. And I - I shall act as I see fit."

Crighton's voice carried no hint of a threat; it sounded like a mere statement, but Sweets bristled as though Crighton was advancing upon her with a wand.

"Now, see here, Crighton," she said, waving a threatening finger. "I've given you free reign, always. I've had a lot of respect for you. I might not have agreed with some of your decisions, but I've kept quiet. There aren't many who'd have let you hire werewolves, or keep Mina, or decide what to teach your students, without reference to the Ministry. But if you're going to work against me - "

"The only one against whom I intend to work," said Crighton, "is Lady Zira. If you are against her, then we remain, Cornelia, on the same side."

It seemed Sweets could think of no answer to this. She rocked backwards and forwards on her small feet for a moment, and wringed her hands nervously.

Finally, she said, with a hint of a plea in her voice, "She can't be back, Crighton, she just can't be ..."

Triphorm strode forwards, past Crighton, pulling up the left sleeve of her robes as she went. She stuck out her forearm, and showed it to Sweets, who recoiled.

"There," said Triphorm harshly. "There. The Death Trail. It is not as clear as it was, an hour or so ago, when it burnt red, but you can still see it. Every Love Destroyer had the sign burnt into her by the Scarlet Lady. It was a means of distinguishing each other, and her means of summoning us to her. When she touched the Trail of any Love Destroyer, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at her side. This Trail has been growing clearer all year. Kula's, too. Why do you think Kula fled tonight? We both felt the Trail burn. We both knew she had returned. Kula fears the Scarlet Lady's vengeance. She betrayed too many of her fellow Love Destroyers to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."

Sweets stepped back from Triphorm, too. She was shaking her head. She did not seem to have taken in a word of what Triphorm had said. She stared, apparently repelled, at the ugly mark on Triphorm's arm, then looked up at Crighton and whispered, "I don't know what you and your staff are playing at Crighton, but I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Crighton, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry."

She had almost reached the door when she paused. She turned around, strode back down the dormitory, and stopped at my bed.

"Your winnings," she said shortly, taking a large bag of gold out of her pocket, and dropping it onto my bedside table. "One thousand Galleons. There should have been a presentation ceremony, but in the circumstances ..."

She crammed her witch's hat onto her head, and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her. The moment she had disappeared, Crighton turned to look at the group around my bed.

"There is work to be done," she said. "My husband I know I can count on. He knows what Sweets is. It's Matthew's fondness for Muggles that leaves him out of Sweets' circle of favourites, but he gets paid well, and as long as that happens, my husband doesn't worry. Sweets thinks he lacks proper wizarding pride, which he does not. So I must send a message to him. All those we can persuade of the truth must be notified immediately, and Matthew is well placed to contact those at the Ministry who are not as short-sighted as Cornelia."

"I'll go to Uncle Matt," said Sam, standing up. "I'll go now."

"Excellent," said Crighton. "Tell him what has happened. Tell him I will be in direct contact with him shortly. And tell him to try and get The Trio and some of their friends involved too, if he can. He will need to be discreet, however. If Sweets thinks I am interfering at the Ministry - "

"Leave it to me," said Sam.

She gave me a hug, then hugged Chris, Sian and Chrissie, walked over to Crighton and kissed her cheek, pulled on her cloak, and strode quickly from the room.

"Deidre," said Crighton, turning to Professor Darbus, "I want to see Mina in my office as soon as possible. Also - if he will consent to come - Monsieur Legrand."

Professor Darbus nodded, and left without a word.

"Pollyanna," Crighton said to Matron, "would you be very kind, and go down to Professor Grumpy's office, where you will find a house-elf called Blinky in considerable distress? Do you think you can talk to him, and take him back to the kitchens. I think Dokey will look after him for us."

"Very - very well," said Matron, looking startled, and she too left.

Crighton made sure the door was closed, and that Matron's footsteps had died away, before she spoke again.

"And now," she said, "it is time for three of our number to recognise each other for what they are. Simba, Nala ... if you could resume your usual forms."

The great black dogs looked up at Crighton, then, in an instant, they turned back into a man and a woman.

None of us yelled or jumped backwards, not even Triphorm, but the look on her face was one of mingled fury and horror - well, at my mother, anyway. When she looked at my father, I saw the exact same look she had when she saw my father in my third year: a look of longing, pain and something else I couldn't name, whereas my father gave Triphorm a look of pure dislike.

"Them!" Triphorm snarled, staring at my mother in particular, even though my parents shared the same amount of dislike for Triphorm. "What are they doing here?"

"They are here at my invitation," said Crighton, looking between them, "as are you, Tiana. I trust the three of you. It id time for you to lay aside your old differences, and trust each other."

I thought Crighton was asking for a near miracle. My parents and Triphorm were eyeing each other with the utmost loathing, even though Triphorm kept her eyes locked on my mother.

"I will settle, in the short term," said Crighton, with a bite of impatience in her voice, "for a lack of open hostility. The three of you will shake hands. You are on the same side now. Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth stand united, there is no hope for any of us."

Very slowly - but still glaring at each other as though each wished the other nothing but ill - my mother and Triphorm moved towards each other, and shook hands. They let go extremely quickly. But when my father stepped forward, I saw Triphorm look at him with a slight longing in her eyes; but when my father continued to show her nothing but loathing, I swear Triphorm looked slightly heartbroken, before they shook hands. As they let go, Triphorm seemed reluctant to let my father's fingers slip away, but did so anyway.

"That will do to be getting on with," said Crighton, stepping between them once more. "Now I have work for each of you. Sweets' attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Simba, Nala, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Timon Meers, Pumbaa Warts, Arnie Figgs, Mona Fetch - the old crowd. Lie low at Meers' for a while, I will contact you there."

"Wait - I - " I said.

I wanted my parents to stay. I did not want to say goodbye again so soon. Even one of them staying with me for just one night would have been good enough for me.

My parents turned around to face me, before they came and sat on my bed. "Listen, Kiara," my father said to me gently, "I know it's hard for you to see your mother and I leave you again so soon, but we promise you that you'll see us again soon. But we must do what we can, you understand, don't you?"

I nodded, and said heavily, "Of course I do."

My father smiled gently and said, "That's my girl. Be strong for us, Kiara." My father then hugged and kissed me, before he stood up and my mother took his place. She brushed my hair back gently and said, "Your father and I are so proud of you, my darling. Never forget that we love you." My mother then hugged and kissed me too, before she stood up and joined my father. My parents then nodded to Crighton, received a hug each of Grandmother Sarabi, before they transformed again into the black dogs, and ran the length of the room to the door, whose handle my father turned with his paw. Then they were gone.

"Tiana," said Crighton, turning to Triphorm, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready ... if you are prepared ..."

"I am," said Triphorm.

She looked slightly paler than usual, and her cold, icy eyes glittered strangely.

"Then, good luck," said Crighton, and she watched, with a trace of apprehension on her face, as Triphorm swept wordlessly after my parents.

It was several minutes before Crighton spoke again.

"I must go downstairs," she said finally. "I must see the Diggs. Kiara - take the rest of your potion. I will see all of you later."

I slumped back against my pillows as Crighton disappeared. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and Grandmother Sarabi were all looking at me. None of us spoke for a very long time.

"You've got to take the rest of your potion, Kiara," Grandmother Sarabi said at last. Her hand nudged the sack of gold on my bedside cabinet as she reached for the bottle and the goblet. "You have a good long sleep. Try and think about something else for a while ... think about what you're going to buy with your winnings!"

"I don't want that gold," I said in an expressionless voice. "You have it. Anyone can have it. I shouldn't have won it. It should've been Georgia's."

The thing against which I had been fighting on and off ever since I had come out of the maze was threatening to overpower me. I felt a burning, prickling feeling in the inner corners of my eyes. I blinked and stared up at the ceiling.

"It wasn't your fault, Kiara," Sian then whispered.

"I told her to take the Cup with me," I said.

"Kiara, listen to me," Sian said. I looked at her. She was pale and sad. "You cannot blame yourself for what happened tonight, for it wasn't your fault she died - for you had no idea of what was going to happen tonight as much as Georgia or any of us did. So don't go blaming yourself for this, Kiara, because we don't, and I don't think anyone else blames you, either - and anyone who does blame you is not worth the time or the trouble, as far as I'm concerned."

"Sian's right, Kiara," Chris said, smiling sadly.

"Yeah, we don't blame you for what happened, or hate you, if it helps you to know," Chrissie said, smiling weakly. I smiled back as my eyes misted, and the burning feeling was in my throat.

"They're right, sweetie," Grandmother Sarabi said gently, as she set the potion down on the bedside cabinet, bent down and put her arms around me. Grandmother Sarabi had hugged me like that many times during my childhood, but never had I welcomed a hug like that from her more than I did at that moment. The full weight of everything I had seen that night seemed to fall in upon me as Grandmother Sarabi held me to her. My grandfather's voice and face, the sight of Georgia, dead on the ground, all started spinning in my head until I could hardly bear it, until I was screwing up my face against the howl of misery that fought to get out of me.

There was a loud thudding noise, which broke Grandmother Sarabi and I apart. Sian was standing by the window. She was holding something tight in her hand.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"Smooth, sister," Chrissie said sarcastically, as she and Chris both gave Sian a look that said, "way to ruin the moment."

"Your potion, Kiara," Grandmother Sarabi then said quickly, as she wiped her eyes on the back of her hand.

I drank it in one. The effect was instantaneous. Heavy, irresistible waves of dreamless sleep broke over me, as I fell back onto my pillows, and thought no more.

 **AN: Hi, guys! Sorry for the long update, but I had internet problems this past weekend, which meant I couldn't update on Sunday, which means I'm late in finishing this book. It will be finished on Sunday - yes, this Sunday - so that's good. Another chapter should be up tomorrow, so keep a lookout for that.**


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41**

 **It Begins Again - Part 1**

 **KIARA**

And so, my fellow readers, we are (almost) at the end of my fourth year now, for this is the last chapter in the fourth book. And there are a few loose ends that need tying up, so let's get on with it, shall we?

You know, when I look back, even now, I find that I have few memories of the days following Georgia's death. It was as though I had been through too much to take in anymore. The recollections I did have, though, were very painful, to say the least. The worst, perhaps, was the meeting with the Diggs that took place the day after Georgia had been killed.

They did not blame me for what happened; on the contrary, both thanked me for returning Georgia's body to them. Mrs Diggs sobbed through most of the interview. Mr Diggs' grief seemed to be beyond tears.

"She suffered very little, then," he said, when I had told him how Georgia had died. "And after all, Alesha ... she died just when she'd won the Tournament. She must have been happy."

When they had got to their feet, he looked down at me and said, "You look after yourself, now."

I seized the sack of gold on the bedside table.

"You take this," I muttered to him. "It should've been Georgia's, she got there first, you take it - "

But he backed away from me. "Oh, no, it's yours, dear, we couldn't ... you keep it."

0000

I returned to Lion-Heart Tower the evening after that day. From what Chris, Sian and Chrissie had told me, Crighton had spoken to the school that morning at breakfast. She merely requested that they left me alone, that nobody ask me questions or badger me to tell the story of what had happened in the maze. Most people, I noticed, skirted me in the corridors, avoiding my eyes. I guessed many of them had believed Peter Meter's article about how disturbed and possibly dangerous I was. I figured that perhaps they were formulating their own theories about how Georgia died. And so, many of them did, until after dinner that night, when the entire school and our guests were called to the Quidditch pitch, where Sian, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel and Merida were standing in a circle, in their Guardian clothes, in a circle, with Merida in the centre with Georgia's body, Kestrel standing on the right of the circle (east), Beth at the bottom (south), Chrissie on the left (west), and Sian stood at the very top of the circle (north). Crighton was standing next to Sian, holding some stick or other, which I found out later is called a smudge stick (white sage is used on it to ward off evil spirits), thanks to Sian. As I looked around, Grandmother Sarabi came over to me and stood next to me, smiling at me gently. Crighton had agreed that she could stay for a few days, and was there because Crighton had invited her, as were the Diggs, who stood not that far from me, holding onto each other, terrible sadness radiating off of them.

Once we were all gathered, Crighton moved to the centre of the circle and surveyed us all.

"I have called you all here tonight," said Crighton, her voice ringing loud and clear, "so that we can all say farewell to Georgia Diggs. A most terrible loss to my school and my students. But it is not just my students who I want to see this." She turned her gaze to the Uagadou and Beauxbatons students, and smiled at them gently. "You have been welcome at this school, and therefore should view our final farewell to Georgia. And I hope that what you are all about to see will open your eyes to the truth, and stop your foolish assumptions," Crighton finished, with a knowing look in her eyes. Out of the corner of my own, I saw many students look at each other nervously, before I turned my focus fully back on Crighton.

She took out her wand, and tapped the end of the smudge stick, which burned and sent the smells of sage, cedar and lavender into the air. She then waved the smudge stick slowly in front of her gently, back and forth, as she approached Kestrel. When she stopped in front of Kestrel, I noticed that the Guardians all picked up a different coloured candle, which corresponded to the element that each Guardian had: yellow for Air, red for Fire, blue for Water, green for Earth and purple for Spirit. No one spoke. None of us moved. Not even the wind blew - as if it, too, was waiting for something to happen.

"Air, of which we are a part of when our souls leave our bodies, to comfort and solace those we love who we have left behind. Please join our circle." And the tip of her wand touched Kestrel's candle.

What happened next, none of us were prepared for: as soon as Crighton's wand touched the tip of the candle, the candle lit, and a sudden breeze came out of nowhere, circling all of us. A few people screamed at what happened, but quickly got over it as they realised that it had to do with the magic that the elements held. Things became settled quickly once more, as Crighton moved down to Beth, waving the smudge stick as she went.

"Fire, to warm us as we move from this world to the next. Please join our circle." Crighton made to touch Beth's candle, but before she could do so, the candle lighted instantaneously (from Beth's hands, I have no idea), and the feel of a warm fire reached us all. I don't know about anyone else, but I felt as though the fire reached my very heart, and warmed it, washing away some of the cold sadness within me, as Crighton turned to Chrissie.

"Water, which is just as changeable as are the courses of our lives which we flow through. Please join our circle." Crighton touched Chrissie's candle with the tip of her wand, which lit like the others, and I smelt fresh spring water, as well as felt it, as though it ran through a stream deep in my heart, washing some of the grief away. Crighton then moved to Sian, waving the smudge stick as she went.

"Earth, of which we will all return to once our souls have departed from our bodies. Please join our circle." Her wand lit Sian's candle, and I saw many people sniffing the air, as the heavy scent of lavender washed over us. I struggled not to close my eyes, and run my hands through an imaginary lavender field. Crighton then joined Merida in the centre of the circle.

"Spirit, the element that simply connects us all. Please join our circle." As soon as Merida's candle was lit, many people gasped, myself included, for I felt Spirit circle around and connect us all momentarily, as the circle connected in a silver line. Once we were all calm again, Crighton spoke. She had put her wand back inside her robes, and was now circling around Georgia, waving the smudge stick as she spoke.

"I hope that as I am doing this," Crighton said as she circled Georgia, her voice ringing loud and clear once more, "the pain and grief that some of you feel will be lifted from you, and that the elements will give you some comfort, and for those of you wondering why I am doing this, it is because I am washing away the evil that has been washed over Georgia's body, and as I am doing that, the elements are soothing her soul, and are making sure she is ready for her departure ... and I think she is ready now. So ..." Crighton then handed the smudge stick to Merida, who kept waving it over Georgia's body, as her mother turned back to Georgia, and held a hand out to her. "When you are ready, Georgia, take my hand ..."

I was confused by this, and by the looks of those around me, I wasn't the only one. How could Georgia take Crighton's hand when she was dead? But then I heard a gasp or two, and as I looked back at Crighton, I saw why people had gasped, for Georgia's soul had clutched onto Crighton's hand as Crighton pulled her up.

"Are you ready, my dear?" Crighton asked her gently.

"Not just yet," Georgia's voice echoed, as she spoke softly. "I'd like to say a few words to everyone before I go, if I may?"

Crighton nodded, and Georgia looked at us, smiling gently at everyone. "Listen to me, everyone. I know that some of you don't believe Kiara about my death, but I assure you that what she told you is true, so please, for my sake, don't keep judging her, thinking that she's a liar and is begging for attention. And Kiara?" I looked at her, and I felt my eyes start to burn when I saw her smile. "Don't blame yourself for what happened. I didn't know the Cup was a Portkey as much as you did, and that's why I don't blame you. If anything, I'm grateful to you for bringing me back here."

I couldn't speak. My throat had tightened, and all I could do was nod my head as I tried to push the tears back. Georgia then turned her eyes to Khan, as did the rest of us. At that moment, I felt truly sorry for Khan, whose tears were running down his cheeks like raindrops.

"Take care of Kiara for me," was all Georgia said to him. Khan nodded his head, and then turned to face me. He gave me a watery smile, and I gave him a sympathetic one in return. We then turned back to Georgia, who was looking at her parents, who were looking at their girl through tear-strewn eyes.

"Mum, Dad, I love you," Georgia said, as a few glistening tears rolled down her own cheeks.

Mrs Diggs looked steadily at Georgia, and said, "And we love you, our special girl." Then she and her husband broke down completely, and sobbed into each other's arms, as Georgia turned to face Crighton once more.

"I'm ready now," Georgia said, a slight smile on her face as she looked at Crighton, who smiled back.

"May the elements guide and comfort you on your journey, child," Crighton said, and she then let go of Georgia's hand. As she did so, Georgia soared straight upwards, and Sian, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel and Merida raised their hands to the sky, so that their elements helped Georgia. We all gasped in awe as the clouds parted, and a beacon of the purest, whitest light streamed out to meet Georgia's soul. Then the light faded, the clouds were strewn back together again, and it was over.

Our attentions then turned back to Crighton as she said, "I hope that Georgia reached her safe Heaven safely, and that she will be happy." Crighton then turned to us, and said, "Georgia is finally at peace. We have done all we can for her now." Crighton then thanked the elements in reverse order, and blew out their candles. Once the circle was closed, Crighton stood aside as Mr Diggs came forward, picked up his daughter's body gently, and carried her back towards the castle with his wife by his side with the rest of us following them.

After that, people started to be a bit more kinder to me. True, there were those that chose not to heed Georgia's words, but there were many who gave me a kind word. But I found that I didn't care very much whether anyone had a kind word for me or not. I liked it best when I was with Chris, Sian and Chrissie, and we talked about other things, or else letting me sit in silence while they played chess. I felt as though the four of us had reached an understanding we didn't need to put into words; that each of us were waiting for some sign, some word, of what was going on outside Dragon Mort - and that it was useless to speculate about what might be coming until we knew it for certain. The only time we touched upon the subject was when Chris told me about a meeting that Sian had heard between Grandmother Sarabi and Crighton before she went home. It happened the day after the ritual, which was also the day when the Diggs left with their daughter's body (I should point out here that a few days later, I grabbed my Invisibility Cloak, put it on and snuck down to Grumpy's office to get the Scallywag's Map back, just so you know).

"Sian heard that Sarabi asked Ma if you could come straight to ours this summer," he said. "But she wants you to go back to your grandmothers, at least at first."

"Why?" I said.

"Sian said Ma's got her reasons," said Chris, shaking his head darkly. "I suppose we've got to trust her, haven't we?"

The only person apart from Chris, Sian and Chrissie that I felt able to talk to was Mina. As there was no longer a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, we had those lessons free. We used the one on Thursday afternoon to go down and visit her in her cabin. It was a bright and sunny day; Gnasher bounded out of the open door as we approached, barking and wagging her tail madly.

"Who's that?" called Mina, coming to the door. _"Kiara!"_

She strode out to meet us, pulled me into a one-armed hug, and said, "Good ter see yeh, mate. Good ter see yeh."

We saw two bucket-sized cups and saucers on the wooden table in front of the fireplace when we entered Mina's cabin.

"Bin havin' a cuppa with Olier," Mina said, "he's jus' left."

"Who?" said Chrissie, curiously.

"Monsieur Legrand, o' course!" said Mina.

"You two made it up, have you?" said Chris.

"Dunno what yeh're talkin' about," said Mina airily, fetching more cups from the dresser. When she had made tea, and offered round a plate of doughy biscuits, she leant back in her chair and surveyed me closely through her beetle-brown eyes.

"You all righ'?" she said gruffly.

"Yeah," I said.

"No, yeh're not," said Mina. "'Course yeh're not. But yeh will be."

I said nothing.

"Knew she was goin' ter come back," said Mina, and Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I looked up at her, shocked. "Known it fer years, Kiara. Knew she was out there, bidin' her time. It had ter happen. Well, now it has, an' we'll jus' have ter get on with it. We'll fight. Migh' be able ter stop her before she gets a good hold. That's Crighton's plan, anyway. Great woman, Crighton. S'long as we've got her, I'm not too worried."

Mina raised her smooth eyebrows at the disbelieving expressions on our faces.

"No good sittin' worryin' about' it," she said. "What's comin' will come, an' we'll meet it when it does. Crighton told me what you did, Kiara."

Mina's chest swelled as she looked at me. "Yeh did as much as yer parents would've done, an' I can' give yeh no higher praise than that."

I smiled back at her. It was the first time I'd smiled since Georgia died, if I remember rightly.

"What's Crighton asked you to do, Mina?" I asked. "She sent Professor Darbus to ask you and Monsieur Legrand to meet her ... that night."

"Got a little job fer me over the summer," said Mina. "Secret, though. I'm not s'posed ter talk about it, not even ter you lot. Olier - Monsieur Legrand ter you - might be comin' with me. I think he will. Think I got him persuaded."

"Is it to do with Zira?"

Mina flinched at the sound of the name.

"Migh' be," she said evasively. "Now ... who'd like ter come an' visit the las' Crab with me? I was jokin' - jokin'!" she added hastily, seeing the looks on our faces.

0000

It was with a heavy heart that I packed my trunk up in my dormitory, on the night before my return to my grandmothers' cottage. I was dreading the Leaving Feast, which was usually a cause for celebration, when the winner of the Inter-House Championship would be announced. I had avoided being in the Great Hall when it was full ever since I had left the hospital wing, preferring to eat when it was nearly empty, to avoid the stares of my fellow students.

When Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I entered the Hall, we saw at once that the usual decorations were missing. The Great Hall was normally decorated with the winning house's colours for the Leaving Feast. That night, however, there were black drapes on the walls behind the teacher's table. I knew instantly that they were there as a mark of respect for Georgia.

The real Crazy-Head Grumpy was at the staff table, her wooden leg and her four magical eyes back in place. She was extremely twitchy, jumping every time someone spoke to her. I couldn't blame her; Grumpy's fear of attack was bound to have been increased by her ten-month imprisonment in her own trunk. Professor Kula's chair was empty. As I sat down with the other Lion-Hearts, I wondered where Kula was now, and whether Zira had caught up with her.

Monsieur Legrand was still there. He was sitting next to Mina. They were talking quietly together. Further along the table, sitting next to Professor Darbus, was Triphorm. Her eyes lingered on me for a moment as I looked at her. Her expression was difficult to read. She looked as sour and unpleasant as ever. I continued to watch her, long after Triphorm had looked away.

I wondered what it was that Triphorm had done on Crighton's orders, the night that Zira had returned? And why ... _why_ ... was Crighton so convinced that Triphorm was truly on our side? She had been our spy, Crighton had said so in the Pensieve. Triphorm had turned spy against Zira, "at great personal risk". Was that the job she had taken up again? Had she made contact with the Love Destroyers, perhaps? Pretended that she had never really gone over to Crighton, that she had been, like Zira herself, biding her time?

My musings were then ended by Professor Crighton, who stood up at the staff table. The Great Hall, which in any case had been less noisy than it usually was at the Leaving Feast, became very quiet.

"The end," said Crighton, looking around at us all, "of another year."

She paused, and her eyes fell upon the Badger-Stripes table. Theirs had been the most subdued table before she had got to her feet, and theirs were still the saddest and palest faces in the Hall.

"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," said Crighton, "but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here," - she gestured towards the Badger-Stripes - "enjoying our Feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Georgia Diggs."

We did it, all of us; the benches scraped as everyone in the Hall stood, and we all raised our goblets, and echoed, in one loud, low, rumbling voice, "Georgia Diggs."

I caught a glimpse of Khan through the crowd. There were tears pouring silently down his face. I looked down at the table as we all sat down again.

"Georgia was a person who exemplified many of the qualities which distinguish Badger-Stripes house," Crighton continued. "She was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, she valued fair play. Her death has affected you all, whether you knew her well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about."

I raised my head, and stared at Crighton.

"Georgia Diggs was murdered by Lady Zira."

A panicked whisper swept through the Great Hall. People were staring at Crighton in disbelief, in horror. She looked perfectly calm as she watched them mutter themselves into silence.

"The Ministry of Magic," Crighton continued, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so - either because they will not believe that Lady Zira has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Georgia died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of her own, is an insult to her memory."

Stunned and frightened, all our faces in that Hall were turned towards Crighton now ... well, almost every face, I should say. Over at the Snake-Eyes table, I saw Dani Malty muttering something to Crate and Gabber, as Rea-Bradley looked at them disapprovingly. I was confused about Rea-Bradley's change of heart, as I felt a hot, sick swoop of anger in my stomach. I forced myself to look back at Crighton.

"There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Zira's death," Crighton went on. "I am talking, of course, about Kiara Pride-Lander."

A kind of ripple crossed the Hall, as a few heads turned in my direction before flicking back to face Crighton.

"Kiara Pride-Lander managed to escape Lady Zira," said Crighton. "She risked her own life to return Georgia's body to Dragon Mort. She showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lady Zira, and for this, I honour her."

Crighton turned gravely to me, and raised her goblet once more. Nearly everybody in the Great Hall followed suit. They murmured my name, as they had murmured Georgia's, and drank to me. But, through a gap in the standing figures, I saw that Malty, Crate, Gabber and many of the other Snake-Eyes had remained defiantly in their seats, their goblets untouched. Rea-Bradley was one of the only few Snake-Eyes students who did stand and raise her goblet. Crighton, who after all possessed no magical eyes, did not notice this.

When everyone had once again resumed their seats, Crighton continued, "The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened - of Lady Zira's return - such ties are more important than ever before."

Crighton looked from Monsieur Legrand and Mina, to Ferdinand Desjardin and his fellow Beauxbatons students, to Kovu Outsider and the Uagadou students at the Snake-Eyes table. Outsider, I saw, looked wary, almost frightened, as though he expected Crighton to say something harsh. His brother, I saw, kept looking at him concernedly.

"Every guest in this Hall," said Crighton, and her eyes lingered upon the Uagadou students, "will be welcomed back here, at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again - in the light of Lady Zira's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided.

"Lady Zira's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.

"It is my belief - and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken - that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you, in this Hall, have already suffered directly at the hands of Lady Zira. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst.

"Remember Georgia. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right, and what is easy, remember what happened to a girl who was good, and kind, and brave, because she strayed across the path of Lady Zira. Remember Georgia Diggs."

0000

 **SIAN**

It was late at night. The stars were twinkling across the black sky, and Sian Dawson was standing in the grounds, getting some air. She had just been in her mother's office, talking with her about what was going to happen over the holidays. Her mother had apologised to her the day after Georgia had died for not believing in her, and Sian had accepted it straightaway. Why shouldn't she? She loved her mother very much and was glad that they had made up. Her mother had given her a note in case any of the teachers caught her and asked why she was out of bed, but at that moment, Sian didn't care if someone caught her. She was too absorbed in her own little world to care at that moment, thinking about the next day: Sian and the rest of the Dragon Mort students would be leaving for the summer holidays, as well as the students from Beauxbatons and Uagadou - and Kopa would be going with them. Her heart squeezed painfully at the thought of Kopa leaving, for she didn't want him to leave her. She couldn't think about never seeing her Kopa again; never seeing his beautiful eyes, or hearing his warm, rich voice again, for every time she did, she had to force the tears back. She was so absorbed in her own thoughts, that she didn't notice someone coming towards her, until she felt someone right beside her. Startled, she looked around, wondering who had come upon her in the dark. But she soon relaxed, for even though it was dark, she recognised the eyes, surrounded by two pieces of cloth. She breathed a sigh of relief. It was Kopa.

"Kopa," she said, as soon as her breathing returned to normal. "What are you doing our here this late at night? Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I was, but I couldn't sleep," he said sharply. "I was going to ask you the same thing, actually. Won't you get in trouble if you get caught?"

Sian sighed, and said, "Normally I would be, but I've got a note from my mother, just in case. I've just been in her office, and I didn't feel like going to bed just yet, and I fancied some fresh air, so ..." She hesitated, but Kopa understood.

"It sounds like you two have made up, then?"

"Yes, we have," Sian smiled, looking at Kopa. He looked happy, but Sian could see an inkling of concern in his eyes. She guessed it had been bugging him for days, judging from the way the stress and worry was radiating off of him. "What's wrong, Kopa?"

Kopa looked into Sian's gently staring eyes, as a variety of emotions crossed them. Eventually, though, he sighed and said, "Sian, I am genuinely sorry my brother tried to attack Kiara in the - "

"Kopa, it's OK," Sian said, breathing in sighs of relief that she finally knew what was bothering him. "I know that Kovu wouldn't intentionally hurt anyone from what you've been saying about him. So there's no need to apologise for what he did. Oh, and in case he asks, tell him I forgive him for me, will you?"

"Sure," Kopa said, his eyes sparkling with relief. They wre silent for a moment, before Kopa spoke again. "So, how's Kiara doing?"

"She's ... coping, you know. It's hard for her, but in time, I'm sure she'll get better," was all Sian said. Kopa nodded, as he and Sian walked over to Sian's secret spot. A silence spread once more between them, and Sian's heart filled with grief once more, but she didn't know how to put it into words without her coming off as too soppy. So, she started off by saying, "So ... you're ... leaving tomorrow, huh?"

"Yeah, I am," he sighed. "And I'm glad I caught you before I left, because I wanted to thank you in private."

Sian looked up at Kopa in surprise. "Thank me? For what?"

Kopa then looked at her steadily, and said, "I didn't like coming here this year - before I met you, of course," he added hastily.

"Why?" Sian asked, surprised.

"Because, apart from my brother, I didn't think I would have anyone else to talk to. Don't get me wrong," he added at the look on Sian's face, "my brother's great. It's just that I wanted to have someone I could talk to about - well, anything really. But I don't want to talk to my brother all the time. That's why I didn't like the idea of coming here this year, because I was worried that I would be alone, with no one but my brother to talk to, because of my face, and I kept thinking that - until I met you."

"Well, I've dealt with a lot of weird," Sian joked. Kopa chuckled.

"Yeah, well you saw past it and accepted me for who I am. I've loved my time here with you, and I thank you for that." Sian saw a smile in his eyes, and she nodded her head as she bowed it, for Kopa's words made her heart ache painfully as she tried to push the tears back again. Once she had regained her composure, she raised her eyes back to Kopa's. He was looking at her in concern.

"What does Kovu think about me?" Sian asked quickly, changing the subject. She thought she saw a flicker of disappointment flash over his eyes, but she couldn't be sure.

"He's happy that I'm happy," was all he said, but as Sian gave him a pointed look, he sighed and said, "OK, if you must know, he likes you and he thinks you're good for me."

Sian smiled, glad to know that Kovu approved. Then sadness took over her heart again, as she said, "I hope you understand why I can't come to South Africa for the summer this year, and that there are no hard feelings between us?"

"No, of course not. It's natural that you should stay close to your family during these times. It's what I would do." Sian gave him a gratified smile. He was so full of understanding.

"I want to thank you, actually," Sian then said.

A look of surprise crossed his eyes. "What do you want to thank me for?"

"Because since I fell out with my mother, you've been the only one I can talk to easily, without taking the mickey out of everything I say. I thought I was going to be alone this year, and that I was going to break from loneliness, but you've been my rock. I thank you for that."

A gracious smile shone through the eyes she adored. "No problem," he said. They walked on in silence all the way to the bench, which continued as they sat down next to each other, and listened to the wind breathing through the trees.

After a while, Kopa turned to Sian, and said nervously, "So, Sian ... seeing as it's my last night here ... I was wondering whether you'd keep your promise to me that you made earlier this year ... about me seeing your hands? I don't have to know the whole story!" he added quickly, at the look on Sian's face. "I'd just like to see, if you'll let me, that is ..."

Sian was worried, for she had been dreading this moment ever since she had first warmed to Kopa. It wasn't because she didn't want him to know; it was because she was scared of how he'd react, and what he'd do once he knew. She really hoped that he wouldn't hate her and walk away, for he would break her heart if he did. So, taking a shaky breath, Sian nodded, but before she took off her gloves, she said to Kopa, "If I do this, will you let me see your face, like you promised me a few months back?"

As she looked into Kopa's eyes, she saw that he was as anxious as she felt. She waited patiently, as a variety of emotions flashed across his eyes once more. Eventually, though, he nodded. Sian gave him a curt nod and, with trembling fingers, she took off one of her gloves slowly, and revealed to Kopa her hands that were laced with icicles. She heard Kopa gasp as she kept her head down, so that he could study her hand.

"I've had ice powers for several years now," Sian said, speaking to her lap. "I don't remember when they stated, but I do know that when I was little, I had a cold edginess over my heart, which eventually manifested itself into ice powers. I wear the gloves so that I can't hurt anybody when I touch them until I can learn to control it, but also to make sure that no one knows about this, for I know that people will think me a freak if they see me like this. The teachers know that I wear the gloves, but they think it's because I have a rare skin condition or other, and that I wear the gloves to protect my hands, but they only believe that because that's what Ma told them. Apart from my siblings, none of the students know the truth, and I prefer to keep it that way." Sian then waited for Kopa to speak.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Kopa asked suddenly and gently. Sian looked up at him then, surprised. Kopa's gaze was fixed intently on her hand, and Sian could see him tracing the lines of her icicles with his eyes.

Sian gulped. "I was scared, OK?"

Kopa's eyes flashed up to hers, and confusion was in them. "Scared? Of what?"

"Of what you'd say to me," Sian gasped. "Of being afraid of me and walking away from me, because you'd think I was a freak."

"I don't think that way about you, Sian. I've never thought that way about you, from the day we first met. This is who you are," he said, pointing at her hands, "and I accept you for that." Kopa then took her hand slowly. Sian tried to pull her hand back, but Kopa held on to her ungloved hand more tightly, both of them ignoring the hot, electrifying heat passing through them, as Kopa delicately traced the icicles on her hand with his free one. Sian's heart skipped a beat as she watched him, wondering at the incredible fact that she didn't hurt him. And then, as the icicles started to crack, and the ice rushed back inside her, but didn't freeze around her heart, she knew why she couldn't: it was because Kopa had melted her heart - not enough to free her of her ice powers, but enough to not hurt him.

"All right," she said after a while, for there was still his part of the bargain to be dealt with. "I've done my part. Now it's your turn."

She saw Kopa looked nervous, as he released her hand and raised both of his to his face, and undid the cloths. Once they were removed from his face, Sian finally got a good look at him, and she gasped at how beautiful his face was. As Sian touched his face, and familiarized herself with not only how he looked, but also how he felt under her fingers, she realised that there were many similarities on his face that he shared with someone, but she couldn't put her finger on it. It was only when she stroked his fringe, and looked at his face, that Sian realised who Kopa really was. She gasped and stood up quickly at the realisation of who Kopa really was. Kopa looked at Sian in surprise, shocked that she had jumped away.

"Sian, what is it? Why did you - ?" Kopa then caught the look on Sian's face, and nodded slowly. "You know who I am, don't you?"

Too shocked for words, Sian nodded. Kopa sighed.

"Sian, please, come and sit by my side and I'll explain everything." Kopa held out his hand, his eyes pleading. Sian hesitated, but took it. Kopa pulled her back down to the bench, sat her down and then he told Sian everything. Sian listened attentively to his story, shocked beyond belief at what had happened to him.

" ... and now you know," Kopa finished slowly, looking at Sian gently. Sian remained silent for a few moments, taking it all in, when a thought hit her.

"So that's why you've been asking me questions about Kiara? Because you want to know her!"

"Exactly! And from what you've said about her, I can see why she means so much to you. I am proud of her. But Sian," - a sudden seriousness had come across his face - "this must be kept between us. If Zira or any of her followers ever knew that I was alive, they - "

"Of course I won't," Sian said quickly. "You can trust me, Kopa. This'll remain between us." She stroked his hand gently, as gratitude shone in Kopa's eyes. "You won't tell anyone about my secret, will you?"

"No." There was a look of trust in his eyes, and Sian could almost see her secret being locked into his heart. They smiled at each other as, without realising, their heads started to move closer together.

"I'm - erm - I'm glad you came this year," Sian said breathlessly, as Kopa ran his fingers through her hair, which made Sian's heart skip a beat or two. She moved her hand to cup the back of his head as he did that, but she didn't know why.

"As am I," Kopa whispered huskily, as his penetrating gaze made her heart jump rapidly.

"And ... I - " But Kopa brushed her lips with his thumb to silence her. Her eyes started to flicker as their noses brushed. Her breathing heightened. Their heads tilted slightly. Then -

"Sian, dear? Are you out here somewhere, my darling?"

Sian heaved an irritated sigh, as she and Kopa jerked apart when they heard her mother's voice. She was irritated at her mother, for normally she had very good timing. If she could have waited just a minute longer, Sian thought desperately, as her mother's footsteps drew nearer. Sian and Kopa quickly made themselves presentable again (Sian put her gloves back on, and Kopa covered his face up), as Sian's mother found them.

"There you are, Sian! What on Earth are you doing out here this late at night? I've been wondering where you'd got - oh!" Sian's mother then saw who she was with, and seemed to quickly grasp what was going on. Flushing with embarrassment, she said quickly to Sian, "I'm sorry, my darling - I didn't realise - "

This time, Sian sighed with sadness, and said, "It's all right, Ma." She smiled, but it wasn't a happy smile. She then turned away from Kopa and said, looking at her lap again, "I'll see you tomorrow, Kopa." Sian sensed that Kopa wanted to say something to her, but when she didn't look up, she heard him move. As he walked away from her, she felt the sadness within her heart grow, as her eyes began to burn. She kept her head down, trying to keep the tears back. It wasn't until she felt a hand under her chin, lifting up her head to face the owner of that hand, that she felt her eyes go blurry. She looked at her mother - for it was indeed her mother's hand that had lifted her head - who was sitting next to her, staring at her gently.

"Oh, my darling," her mother said gently, "you really are growing up."

Sian couldn't keep it in any longer; as soon as her mother said those words, she flung her arms around her mother's neck. buried her head in her mother's chest, and let the tears out. She was glad when she felt her mother's arms around her, stroking her hair and whispering words of love and comfort in her ear.

"I know, my darling, I know," was all her mother said.

For a while, mother and daughter sat there like that, hugging each other under the starry sky, neither saying a word, as Sian cried out her pain, her sadness and her annoyance at her mother for running the moment. But she was happy her mother was with her all the same, holding her, comforting her, just how it should be.

 **AN: Sorry about splitting this chapter up, but I had to, because it's too long to be packed into one. Oh, and forget about me finishing this thing on Sunday, for I am finishing this tomorrow instead. I hope you liked the House of night reference for the ritual, and also this piece of Sian and Kopa. I'm afraid you'll have to wait until I get to book seven to find out more about Kopa. Oh, and just so you know, Sian did keep her ice powers. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I will post the last chapter of this book tomorrow, along with my plans for the future.**


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42**

 **It Begins Again - Part 2**

 **KIARA**

My trunk was packed, Harold was back in his cage on top of it. Chris, Chrissie and I were waiting in the crowded Entrance Hall with the rest of our fellow fourth-years for the carriages that would take us back to the Sub Cave. It was another beautiful summer's day. I supposed that my grandmothers' cottage and the area around it would be hot and leafy, a patchwork of colour spreading over the land as far as I could see, when I arrived that evening. The thought gave me a bit of pleasure, but then I remembered that I would be seeing my aunt, uncle and cousin over the holidays, and the pleasure died.

"Kiara!"

I looked around. Ferdinand Desjardin was hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Beyond him, far across the grounds, I could see Mina helping Monsieur Legrand to back two of the giant horses into their harness. The Beauxbatons carriage was about to take off.

"We will see each uzzer again, I 'ope," said Ferdinand, as he reached me, holding out his hand. "I am 'oping to get a job 'ere, to improve my Eenglish."

"It's very good already," said Chrissie, in a strangled sort of voice. Ferdinand smiled at her; Chris just rolled his eyes.

"Goodbye, Kiara!" said Ferdinand, turning to go. "It 'az been a pleasure meeting you!"

My spirits couldn't help but be lifted slightly, as I watched Ferdinand hurry back across the lawns to Monsieur Legrand, his black hair fanning out behind him.

"Wonder how the Uagadou students are getting back?" said Chrissie. "D'you reckon they can steer that submarine without Kula?"

"Kula did not steer," said a gruff voice. "She stayed in her cabin and let us do the work." Outsider had come to see us about something. He looked worried. "Do any of you know where Kopa is? It's just that he went off with Sian a while ago, and I haven't seen them since."

Chris, Chrissie and I hadn't thought about where Sian was until Kovu had mentioned it; Chrissie had Lucifer in his basket, and she had carried down Sian's trunk as well as her own. We looked around, trying to see if Sian was somewhere in the crowd, when a laugh caught our attention. Chris, Outsider, Chrissie and I looked back out of the doors into the grounds, where we saw Sian, hand in hand with Kopa, coming towards us. They were talking and laughing. Sian's face was flushed and Kopa's eyes were bright, but I could tell that under his cloths, his cheeks were flushing, too. I figured that they had been saying goodbye in private (kissing, just that. Not anything else. What is wrong with you people?).

Sian and Kopa joined us then. "Sorry we took so long, guys," Sian said, stifling a giggle. Then she turned to Kopa, a sad smile on her face. "So, this is it, huh?"

"Yeah, this is it," Kopa said even more sadly. An awkward silence commenced then, but Outsider quickly interrupted it.

"Kopa, we need to get going soon." Sian and Kopa jumped then, and looked apologetically at us all.

"Sorry, Kov. You're right." He then turned to me, and I saw a smile in his eyes. "I know we don't know each other that well, Kiara, but I just want you to know that I'm sorry for all that you've been through, and I hope things will get better soon. And if you ever want to get in touch with me, Sian has my contact details (and I have hers), so you can give me a call if you want to talk. Plus, I'd really like to get to know you better."

I was taken aback by his words, but I appreciated them all the same. "Thanks, Kopa. I appreciate that." He smiled at me, and then turned back to his brother, who looked at Sian first.

"You're a good match for my brother," he told her gently. Sian beamed at him, as he turned to me. "I liked Diggs, she was always polite to me. Always. Even though I am fro Uagadou - with Kula," he added, scowling.

"Have you got a new Headmistress yet?" I said.

Outside shrugged. He held out his hand as Ferdinand had done, shook my hand, then Chris and Chrissie's.

Chris hesitated for a moment, then said, "Can Chrissie and I have your autograph?"

Sian smiled, as Outsider, who looked surprised, but gratified, signed two pieces of parchment for Chris and Chrissie, and then he and Kopa walked towards the doors. Just as they reached them, Sian shouted, "Kopa?"

Kopa and Outsider looked around at her. "What is it, Sian?" he asked her.

"I love you!" Sian said. Chris, Chrissie and I stood there, flabbergasted.

Kopa's eyes sparkled with joy, as he shouted back, "I love you, too!"

Sian and Kopa stood there, grinning like idiots at each other, until Outsider turned him around and they headed down the stone steps together.

"Well, so much for Dad saying Sian was going to be the last of us to ever get married," Chrissie muttered, as the horseless carriages trundled up towards us.

0000

The weather could not have been more different on our way back to Dover than it had been on our way to Dragon Mort in September of 2007. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. Even underwater, we saw the water was clear and bright. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I sat on our own in the Dawsons special Sub as always. Chris and Chrissie had thrown their own dress robes over Cattonia and Piggledon to stop them twittering continually; Harold was dozing with his head under his wing, and Lucifer was curled up in a spare seat like a large, furry black cushion. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I talked more fully and freely than we had done that week, as the Subs sped us towards Dover. I felt as though Crighton's speech at the Leaving Feast had unblocked me, somehow. It was less painful to discuss what had happened now. We broke off our conversation about what action Crighton might be taking even now to stop Zira, only when it was time for lunch.

When Sian returned with her food and put her money back into her schoolbag, she dislodged a copy of the _Daily Squabbler_ which she had been carrying in there.

I looked at it, unsure whether I really wanted to know what it might say, but Sian, seeing me look at it, said calmly, "There's nothing in there. You can look for yourself, but there's nothing at all. I've been checking every day. Just a small piece the day after the third task, saying you won the Tournament. They didn't even mention Georgia. Nothing about any of it. If you ask me, Sweets is forcing them to keep quiet."

"She'll never be able to keep Peter quiet," I said. "Not on a story like this."

"Oh, Peter hasn't written anything at all since the third task," said Sian, in an oddly constrained sort of voice. "As a matter of fact," she added, her voice now trembling slightly, "Peter Meter isn't going to be writing anything at all for a while. Not unless he wants me to spill the beans on _him_."

"What are you talking about?" said Chris.

"I found out how he was listening in on private conversations when he wasn't supposed to be coming into the grounds," said Sian in a rush.

I had the impression that Sian had been dying to tell us this for days, but that she had restrained herself in the light of everything else that had happened.

"How was he doing it?" I said at once.

"How did you find out?" said Chrissie, staring at her.

"Does this have anything to do with that beetle you gave me last week?" Chris said suddenly, looking suspicious.

Sian blushed at Chris' question, before she turned to me, and said, "Well, it was you, really, who gave me the idea, Kiara."

"Did I?" I said, perplexed. "How?"

 _"Bugging,"_ said Sian happily.

"But you said they didn't work - "

"Oh, not _electronic_ bugs," said Sian. "No, you see ... Peter Meter" - Sian's voice trembled with quiet triumph - "is an unregistered Animagus. He can turn - "

Sian pulled a small sealed glass jar out of her bag.

" - into a beetle."

"You're kidding," said Chrissie. "You haven't ... he's not ..."

"Oh, yes he is," said Sian happily, brandishing the jar at us.

Inside were a few twigs and leaves, and one large, fat beetle.

"That's never - you're kidding - " Chrissie whispered, lifting the jar to her eyes.

"No, I'm not," said Sian, beaming. "I caught him on the window-sill in the hospital wing. Look very closely, and you'll notice the markings around his antennae are exactly like those foul glasses he wears."

I looked and saw that she was quite right, as Chris said to her, "So _that's_ why you wanted me to keep that beetle in my dormitory; because this beetle's an Animagus, who is a man, and boy's can't be trusted in the girls' dormitories - "

"Precisely, Rickers," said Sian proudly. "And it's also why I told you that he was an animal I wanted to study over the summer, because I didn't want anyone else knowing about it."

"Nice one, S.D.," I said. Then I remembered something. "There was a beetle on the statue that night we heard Mina telling Monsieur Legrand about her dad!"

"Exactly," said Sian. "And Kopa pulled a beetle off of his cloths after we'd had our conversation by the river. And unless I'm very much mistaken, Peter was perched on the window-sill of the Divination class the day your scar hurt. He's been buzzing around for stories all year."

"When we saw Malty under that tree ..." said Chrissie slowly.

"She was talking to him, in her hand," said Sian. "She knew, of course. That's how he's been getting all those nice little interviews with the Snake-Eyes. They won't care that he was doing something illegal, as long as they were giving him horrible stuff about us and Mina."

Sian took the glass jar back from Chrissie and smiled at the beetle, which buzzed angrily against the glass.

"I've told him I'll let him out when we get back to Dover," said Sian. "I've put an Unbreakable Charm on the jar, you see, so he can't transform. And I've told him he's to keep his quill to himself for a whole year. See if he can't break the habit of writing horrible lies about people."

As Sian finished this, she smiled serenely, and placed the beetle back inside her schoolbag, as a blazing light filled our section of the sub, and Dani Malty, followed by Crate and Gabber were there, having just come in by Transporter Beam (we had learnt that the Transporter Beam had been put in place earlier that morning, so friends could visit each other if they wanted to, and for the Prefects to check occasionally that there was no trouble going on). Rea-Bradley was not with them.

"Very clever, Dawson," said Malty.

She, Crate and Gabber looked more pleased with themselves, more arrogant and more menacing, than I had ever seen them.

"So," said Malty, advancing slowly towards us, and looking around at us, a smirk quivering on her lips. "You caught some pathetic reporter, and Pride-Lander's one of Crighton's favourite girls again. Big deal."

Her smirk widened. Crate and Gabber leered.

"Trying not to think about it, are we?" said Malty softly, looking at the four of us. "Trying to pretend it hasn't happened?"

"Get out," I said.

I had not been near Malty since I had watched her muttering to Crate and Gabber during Crighton's speech about Georgia. I felt a kind of ringing in my ears. My hand gripped my wand under my robes.

"You've picked the losing side, Pride-Lander! I warned you! I told you you ought to choose your company more carefully, remember? When we met just before we got Sorted, first day at Dragon Mort? I told you not to hang around with riff-raff like this!" She jerked her head at Chris, Sian and Chrissie. "Too late now, Pride-Lander! They'll be the first to go, now the Scarlet Lady's back! Sackbrains, Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers first! Well - second - Diggs was the f - "

It was as though someone had exploded a box of fireworks within the compartment. Blinded by the blaze of spells that had blasted from every direction, deafened by a series of bangs, I blinked, and looked down at the floor.

Malty, Crate and Gabber were all lying unconscious in the middle of the room. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I were on our feet, the four of us having used a different hex. Nor were we the only ones to have done so.

"We've been with Beth, Kestrel, Merida and the others next door," said Tanya, as she and Geri stood next to me, "and when we saw your head pop up, Kiara, Geri and I looked in to see what was going on. I say we made good timing to come and help, don't you think, Ger?"

"Definitely, Tan," said Geri, as she and Tanya went to look at the damages done on Malty, Crate and Gabber. They both had their wands out, and were careful to tread on the three unconscious girls' fingers as they studied them.

"Interesting effect," said Geri, as she looked down at Crate. "Who used the Furnunculus curse?"

"I did," I said.

"Odd," said Geri lightly. "I used Jelly-Legs. Looks as though those two shouldn't be mixed. She seems to have sprouted tentacles all over her face. Well, let's not leave them here, they don't add much to the décor."

Chrissie, Geri and I kicked, rolled and pushed the unconscious Malty, Crate and Gabber - each of whom looked distinctly the worse for the jumble of jinxes with which they had been hit - out of our eye-line, and into a darker part of the compartment.

"Exploding Snap, anyone?" said Tanya, pulling out a pack of cards.

We were halfway through our fifth game when I decided to ask them.

"You going to tell us, then?" I said to Geri. "Who you were blackmailing?"

"Oh," said Geri darkly. _"That."_

"It doesn't matter," said Tanya, shaking her head impatiently. "It wasn't anything important. Not now, anyway."

"We've given up," said Geri, shrugging.

But Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I kept on asking, and finally Tanya said, "All right, all right, if you really want to know ... it was Lynn Baxter."

"Baxter?" I said sharply. "Are you saying she was involved in - "

"Nah," said Geri gloomily. "Nothing like that. Stupid cow. She wouldn't have the brains."

"Well, what, then?" said Chris.

Tanya hesitated, then said, "You remember that bet we had with her, at the Quidditch Friendly? About how Ireland would win, but Outsider would get the Snitch?"

"Yeah," Chris, Chrissie and I said slowly.

"Well, the cow paid us in leprechaun gold she'd caught from the Irish mascots."

"So?"

"So," said Tanya impatiently, "it vanished, didn't it? By next morning, it had gone!"

"But - it must've been an accident, mustn't it?" said Sian.

Geri laughed very bitterly. "Yeah, that's what we thought, at first. We thought if we just wrote to her, and told her she'd made a mistake, she'd cough up. But nothing doing. Ignored us. We kept trying to talk to her about it at Dragon Mort, but she was always making some excuse to get away from us."

"In the end, she turned pretty nasty," said Tanya. "Told us we were too young to gamble, and she wasn't giving us anything."

"So we asked for our money back," said Geri, glowering.

"She didn't refuse!" gasped Sian.

"Right in one," said Tanya.

"But that was all your savings!" said Chrissie.

"Tell me about it," said Geri. "'Course, we found out what was going on in the end. Leah Jones' mum had had a bit of trouble getting money off Baxter as well. Turns out she's in big trouble with the fauns. Borrowed loads of gold off them. A gang of them cornered her in the woods after the Quidditch Friendly and took all the gold she had, and it still wasn't enough to cover all her debts. They followed her all the way to Dragon Mort to keep an eye on her. She's lost everything gambling. Hasn't got two Galleons to rub together. And you know how the idiot tried to pay the fauns back?"

"How?" I said.

"She put a bet on you," said Tanya. "Put a big bet on you to win the Tournament. Bet against the fauns."

"So _that's_ why she kept trying to help me win!" I said. "Well - I did win, didn't I? So she can pay you your gold!"

"Nope," said Geri, shaking her head. "The fauns play as dirty as her. They say you drew with Diggs, and Baxter was betting you'd outright win. So Baxter had to run for it. She made a run for it right after the third task."

Geri sighed deeply, and started dealing out the cards again.

The rest of the journey passed pleasantly enough; I wished it could have gone on all summer, in fact, and that I would never have arrived at Dover ... but as I hard learnt the hard way that year, time will not slow down when something unpleasant lies ahead, and all too soon the Dragon Mort Subs were slowing down, as the claws to pull them out of the water plunged in. Once the Subs had reached a stop beside the walking platforms, I heard the usual confusion and noise that filled the platforms as students began to disembark. Chris, Sian and Chrissie struggled out past Malty, Crate and Gabber, carrying their trunks.

I, however, stayed put. "Tanya - Geri - wait a moment."

The twins turned. I pulled open my trunk, and drew out my Triwizard winnings.

"Take it," I said, and I thrust the sack into Geri's hands.

"What?" said Tanya, looking flabbergasted.

"Take it," I repeated firmly. "I don't want it."

"You're mental," said Geri, trying to push it back at me.

"No, I'm not," I said. "You take it, and get inventing. It's for the joke shop."

"She _is_ mental," Tanya said, in an almost awed voice.

"Listen," I said firmly. "If you don't take it, I'm throwing it down the drain. I don't want it and I don't need it. But I could do with a few laughs. We could all do with a few laughs. I've got a feeling we're going to need them more than usual before long."

"Kiara," said Geri weakly, weighing the money bag in her hands, "there's got to be a thousand Galleons in here."

"Yeah," I said, grinning. "Think how many Further Funny Fingers that is."

The twins stared at me.

"Just don't tell the Dawsons where you got it ... although Sian might not be so keen for you to join the Ministry anymore, come to think of it ..."

"Kiara," Tanya began, but I pulled out my wand.

"Look," I said flatly, "take it, or I'll hex you. I know some good ones now. Just do me one favour, OK? Buy Chrissie some new dress robes, and say they're from you ..." (Sorry, Chrissie - and Sian, for that matter - but I just don't like them)

I left the compartment before I could say another word, ignoring Malty, Crate and Gabber, who were still lying on the floor, covered in hex marks.

My grandmothers were waiting for me below. Mr Dawson stood close by them. He hugged me very tightly when he saw me, and whispered in my ear, "I think my wife will let you come to us later in the summer. Keep in touch, Kiara."

"See you, Kiara," said Chrissie, hugging me.

"Take care, Kiara," said Sian, hugging me, too.

"Bye, Kiara!" said Chris, and he did something he had never done before that moment - he kissed me on the cheek. Sian and Chrissie "Oooooh"ed him cheekily, but Chris just said, "Shut up!" Sian and Chrissie giggled behind their hands.

"Kiara - thanks," Geri muttered, while Tanya nodded fervently at her side (I should point out here that Tanya and Geri were staying at the Dawsons, because they didn't want anything to do with their mother, and the Dawsons were the closest relatives they had, and that's why they decided to stay with them. They were of age, after all).

I winked at them, then turned to my grandmothers. They hugged me warmly, and then we went out of the barrier and to their car. There was no point worrying yet, I told myself at that point, as I got into the passenger seat of Grandmother Sarabi's car.

As Mina had said, what would come, would come ... and I would have to meet it when it did.

And so, there you go. My fourth year is done - or, as those of us who were close to Sian would like to call it, the Year Sian Fell in Love. It came as a shock to all of us. My story isn't over yet, and I'm sorry to say that the worst is yet to come. There are some good parts to come too, but we'll get there later. So, until my fifth book, I have just one final word to say here:

 _ **Farewell**_

 **AN: So, there you go, the fourth book done. I'm going to do a couple of one-shots for _Jane Eyre_ this Sunday and sometime next week, but the first chapter of the fifth book will be posted next Sunday, that I can promise you. So, I shall see you then. Peace!**


End file.
